Save Your Goodbyes
by smc-27
Summary: Peyton Sawyer. Nate Archibald. One summer in the Hamptons. Lucas and Serena are distant memories; simply stories of almost love or could have beens. Maybe it's true that you find something better... Peyton/Nate OTH/GG Crossover
1. Good Day to Get Gone

**A/N:** Blame coconut16 and her awesome Gossip Girl stories for this one. Or credit her, if you want to go about it nicely. Either way, her work has influenced this...

Here's the biz. I've never done a crossover. Never done a story that wasn't OTH. I have no idea how long this is going to be, or where it's going to go. All I know is it's fun to write. That said, we'll see how often I can update; I'll do my best (you know that!).

What you need to know: Everything in GG is the same, except Nate never makes the (stupid) choice to go to Europe with Vanessa. This takes place after S2 of GG.

As for Peyton, everything from S1-4 happened in OTH land, except she never tells Brooke she loves Lucas, and Brooke and Lucas are still together. This takes place after S4 of OTH. This means that that Peyton and Nate are the same age and have each just finished their senior year.

Questions? Comments? That's what reviews/PMs are for! Read away.

**----**

She's seen him around a couple times before, though she's sure he's never noticed her. She's almost certain that's a good thing; this is the first time she's been dressed in anything even remotely worth looking at. The first time, he probably would have thought she was just some random kid walking around the Upper East Side. She had on just her torn jeans and a Johnny Cash tee shirt. The second time, she was wearing a black summer dress from the Gap that garnered strange looks from the women she passed on the street.

In her town, the Gap would have almost been considered haute couture. This is a very, very different world.

He's laughing with a dark haired boy who wears ascots and perfect suits and has a gorgeous brunette at his side sipping a glass of champagne. She hears the boy - her boy, though he isn't hers, but she'll call him that just for fun - say something about lacrosse or soccer or some other sport that isn't basketball, and she smiles. He locks eyes with her as he sips his ice water, and she smiles nervously. His lips are bent into a grin when he lowers his glass, and the boy with the ascot seems to take notice of all this, given the highly amused smirk he's wearing.

She feels her cheeks burn up a little, knowing she's been caught eyeing someone so obviously. She heads back to the bar for a refill on her vodka lemonade or whatever it is she's drinking, and she needlessly adjusts the strap of her pale coloured dress, just to occupy her hands.

She feels completely out of place all of a sudden. It's clear this world was cliquey and pretentious, and it isn't at all what she is used to. She wonders how in the world she's even here. She literally has to think back on the series of events that brought her to this city and question why she ever agreed to it.

She supposes she always knew the owner of the company her father worked for had to be fairly wealthy. She met him a few times over the years, and he always looked well-dressed and was well-mannered, and his wife had a neck adorned with beautiful jewelry and a diamond ring that must have cost a small fortune. What she didn't think was that he would have a house in the Hamptons and a plantation in South Carolina. All that to go along with his other two homes, one in Boston and the other in Savannah. And evidently, that wasn't enough; he and his wife were summering in Europe.

So how did she end up in a massive house in the Hamptons for the summer with him paying her generously? Well, he'd needed a house-sitter, and she'd needed to get out of Tree Hill. It was as simple as that.

Really, her job is easy. It's basically a paid vacation. The housekeeper comes once a week to clean, Peyton has a little Mercedes to drive around in, and she essentially just lives there and he pays her $1,000 a week.

It's really not a bad job at all.

She'd had to go to New York City first to be introduced to a few families who apparently have houses in the same Hamptons neighbourhood. She had gotten a dose of UES life over a week until she was driven to the Hamptons in a sleek town car, her feeble personal belongings in a few bags in the trunk.

The only thing is, she's forced to put in appearances at these parties on behalf of Mr. and Mrs. Miller. She was told to say she's their niece, and she really doesn't feel bad about the lie, because none of these people will remember her anyway.

She wonders if even the people who've known her forever remember her.

She'd needed to leave. Nathan has Haley, Brooke has Lucas. She has no one. So she left, in hopes of finding whatever it is she's been looking for forever.

Or maybe finding something she didn't know she was missing.

Or maybe just getting a great tan, padding her bank account, and wearing the expensive clothes the Millers left in the closet in the huge bedroom that is hers for the summer.

But even so, every time she sees this one boy, she wonders if maybe this summer will end up being a little more than she bargained for.

"I'm Chuck Bass," a sultry voice says, extending a hand as he sidles up next to her at the bar.

Ascot boy.

But she should probably call him by his real name from now on.

"Peyton Sawyer," she says politely. She figures that as one of the few people at this party who's actually paying her any attention, the least she can do is be nice.

"Interesting name."

"Interesting?" she asks with a raised brow.

"We're a society of Charles'. Blairs and Nathaniels," he explains, though it's not much of an explanation.

She sees that he's watching the two people he was just standing with, and things fall into place. "Blair and Nathaniel, I take it?"

Nathaniel. It's close to Nathan. More refined. A little distinguished. It suits him, she thinks.

And she's staring. Chuck is too perceptive.

"He's single. 18. Archibald. A Vanderbilt," Chuck elaborates.

"So what does that mean?" she asks cluelessly, taking the tall glass he hands her.

"Money," he answers.

"Oh. Right." She takes a sip of her drink, feeling foolish and a little embarrassed. Chuck doesn't seem fazed. "And Blair?"

"Waldorf," he says, watching the girl with a private smile on his face.

"She's yours?" Peyton asks, though it may be an inappropriate way to phrase it.

"She is," he confirms. "Come meet them."

"Oh, no. It's...I'm fine here," she protests, shaking her head and toying with her silver necklace nervously.

"You can't spend your whole summer alone," he says.

And for the first time, as she watches Nathaniel smile at something Blair has said, she feels like maybe she doesn't want to spend her whole summer alone.

"Fine," she says softly.

"After you." Chuck gestures for her to walk ahead of him, and she tucks one of her curls behind her ear as she makes her way to the only other people her age at the whole party.

She's always been fairly sure of herself. She's strong and independent and hardheaded. But she feels completely out of her depth in this crowd. And the way Blair is smiling at her isn't putting her at ease. It's not an ingenuine look, but Peyton isn't sure what judgments or criticisms are in that look. She's been here only just over a week and she's felt the same way almost any time anyone looks her way.

For some reason, she didn't feel that with Chuck; perhaps it was the olive branch he extended her. And when Nathaniel follows Blair's gaze and looks at Peyton, she doesn't feel it from him either.

It's nice, she decides.

"Blair, Nathaniel, this is Peyton Sawyer," Chuck says once they're all standing together.

"Nice to meet you," Blair says, her voice full of a sweetness Peyton can tell isn't fake.

The two shake hands and Peyton is almost put at ease by it. "You too."

"Hi. And you can call me Nate," her boy says, shooting a look to Chuck. "Normal people call me Nate."

"Chuck's not normal?" Peyton asks as she places her palm to Nate's. It's warm and soft and she likes it a lot. She has to remind herself to let go.

Nate and Blair start laughing and Chuck just smirks as he takes a sip of his drink.

"No, honey. Chuck's not normal," Blair says with a giggle. He whispers something in her ear and she drops her jaw and swats his chest. "You'll learn that soon enough."

"You're Howard and Diane's niece, right?" Nate asks.

She almost blushes. How does he know that?

"Um...yeah," Peyton says, though she finds it really hard to lie to him. She doesn't want to. "Okay, no. My father works for Howard and I'm house sitting."

They all laugh again, and Peyton looks to the ground.

"Honesty. Refreshing," Chuck says beneath his breath, and Blair rolls her eyes again.

"Don't listen to him. We're honest. Well...mostly," the girl says. "I saw you in the city, I think. You were with Diane."

"Yeah. I was meeting...um...Dammit. Someone important," Peyton says, tipping her head back and trying to remember the name.

Chuck watches her in amusement.

She's like Serena, version 2.0.

He can already tell Nate is captivated.

"The Chartwells? Does that sound right?" she asks, biting her bottom lip a little.

"They live across the street from you," Blair explains. "But they only come out here once a summer."

"Does everyone know everyone?" Peyton asks quietly, looking around the perfectly manicured lawn. "I mean, I'm from a small town, so it's kind of the same, but..."

"Well, here, _knowing_ someone means that you know their secrets. And usually use them for blackmail," Nate says, flashing a perfect smile to the 'new' girl. He glances at Blair, and she shoots him an indignant look.

"Why did you just look at _me_ when you said that?" she asks hotly, placing one hand on her hip.

"Blair," Chuck says, raising his brow as he tilts his head just slightly. She pouts until he kisses her cheek, and Peyton laughs.

She shares a look with Nate, who just shakes his head at his friends. She feels a little something when their eyes lock.

And she definitely doesn't want to spend her whole summer alone.

----

She's wearing just cutoff shorts and a black racer-back tank top with the word Ravens written across the front when she sees him again. Her hair is up (this humidity is destroying her curls) and she's only wearing mascara and watermelon lip gloss. She considers stepping into the closest store and avoiding him.

But she can't avoid him, and she doesn't really want to.

"Hey!" he says, almost pointing at her when he sees her there. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she says simply, nodding a little bit. "You?"

"I'm well, thanks."

She notices his perfect smile and his perfect eyes and his perfect grammar, and she wonders if he has a flaw.

"I just got sick of sitting at the house," she explains, though he didn't ask. "Who knew a place that big could be so boring?"

He laughs and she _feels_ it. She doesn't know how that's possible. Truthfully, she's usually just happy to feel much of anything.

"Well, I needed a break from Chuck and Blair," he says, as though that's so much worse than what she's had to endure. "You want to come for an iced coffee?"

She can't find her voice, so she just nods and they start walking together. She really doesn't know what to say. He's too nice and too gorgeous and she doesn't want to ruin any of it by saying the wrong thing.

"Bit of a change from North Carolina, huh?" he asks, bumping her shoulder with his after seeing an Aston Martin speed past.

"You have no idea. It's insane." She loves that he remembers where she's from. The party was a week ago and she honestly didn't know if she'd see him again.

"Everything in excess," he says quietly, like he's almost (but not really) ashamed of it. "But I don't care that this iced coffee costs $6. It's the best ever."

"Is that right?" she asks with a laugh.

He holds open the door to the little coffee shop, and she sighs her relief at being in the cool air conditioned space.

Nate watches as she runs her hand over the back of her neck. He watches her legs carry her forward. He notices the sway of her hips and the scar just below her knee. She's different. Definitely different. No matter how much Chuck had tried to say that Peyton was like Serena. Okay, so she seems pretty independent, and kind of free spirited, and she's blonde and has long legs and is absolutely gorgeous.

But she isn't Serena. He finds himself liking that she isn't.

"Grab that table," he says, cupping her elbow gently and speaking in her ear like it's some huge secret. "I'll be right back."

She can still smell him long after he's walked away - grass and sweat and summer and _boy_; something like all that anyway - and she moves towards the table he'd pointed to. She can see why he wanted this one. It's the best table in the entire place. Near the window, but out of the sun, and with a view of everyone else in the shop.

She watches Nate as he orders drinks and smiles with the barista. He has a natural charm, that's for sure. It doesn't feel forced, like it has with a few of the people she's met. It feels like that's just the way he is. Good looking, great personality, charm. What doesn't the boy have? He can't be that perfect.

She watches him walking back towards her, and it seems for a moment that it's all slow motion, as cliché as it is for her to even think it. But she notices the line of his jaw and the curve of his nose. His hands as they hold those plastic cups. The windswept way he wears his hair. His tanned skin.

She wants to draw him.

She blushes at the thought, and bows her head as he sits down across from her.

"Thank you," she says sincerely, smiling at him.

"So, Peyton, what would you normally do on a day like this?" he asks.

There's an adorable boyish quality to him that is completely juxtaposed to the fact that she wants to rip his shirt off him.

The heat has to be getting to her. She shouldn't be having these thoughts.

"Probably sit in coffee shops drinking cold drinks," she says, and they both laugh. "Maybe the beach." She shrugs her shoulder as he sips on his straw. "I don't know. I can barely remember last summer."

"Oh _really_?" he asks in amusement and she rolls her eyes.

"No. It wasn't like that. It just seems like a long time ago."

"Why's that?"

"It's been kind of a crazy year," she says softly. "It's actually really good to get away."

"And it's not like you're anywhere awful, either," he says, glancing outside at the sunshine.

"No. It's beautiful. I just...I thought I wanted the summer like, all to myself. I was totally going to just sit around and think and just...reconnect with myself," she says before really thinking. "I sound crazy."

"No you don't," he insists. "That actually...I'd probably be doing the same thing if Chuck and Blair weren't around."

"You guys are close?"

"You could say that," he says with a laugh. "We've known each other forever. Blair and I used to date."

"Oh. Wow." She takes her first sip of coffee and her eyes go wide. He smiles at her like he's happy to have convinced her that it's the best.

He doesn't mention Serena. He doesn't want to, and it's not important, and she doesn't need to hear about that other girl yet. Maybe eventually they'll get there. He doesn't know why he thinks so.

"So what was so crazy about your year?" he asks nonchalantly. He looks at her like she's insane when she laughs.

"Everything," she says. "You won't believe me."

"I will too!"

She takes a deep breath and squints at him, as though she's trying to decide if she really wants to tell him everything, and he just smiles at her. That smile is plenty of encouragement.

And she doesn't know why she's so at ease with him. It's really not like she's ever just broadcasted her life story to anyone before. Maybe it's just that smile. Or maybe it's got something to do with the fact that she's only around for the summer, and after that, they'll probably never see each other again.

Either way, she starts talking.

And she starts at the beginning. Well, the beginning of her senior year. Her almost ex and her best friend. Her close friends getting married, separated, having brushes with death, then getting back together. Finding out she was adopted. Her birth mother dying. Getting shot. Traveling to see her ex-boyfriend and almost getting engaged (she says almost, because it was never really real). Thinking she was in love with another boy, only to realize that she really wasn't. Finding out she has a brother. Being stalked (twice) by a guy posing as said brother. Her real brother being in the marines and heading for Iraq. Not getting into the college she wanted. Her friends having a baby.

He's wide-eyed when she finishes, and she fully expects him to run through the door and never look back. But he just looks at her and shakes his head and says he's sorry that she had to go through all that. He tells her she has to be a hell of a strong girl to be still standing and smiling at the end of it. He smiles when she blushes, and then asks a couple questions about her getting shot.

"You want to see it, don't you?" she asks with a grin. All boys are the same.

"I totally do," he admits, making them both laugh.

She lifts her leg up onto the chair next to him and he leans down to take a closer look at the wound. It's long-since healed, but he still looks intrigued and amazed by it. She feels...something...in her stomach when he places his hand on her calf and runs his thumb over the scar. She has to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from saying something - anything - to him.

"Okay, what the hell kind of place is Tree Hill?" he asks with a laugh. "Ridiculous."

"I know," she says, giggling as she puts her foot on the floor again.

"You had to escape to the Hamptons to get away from the drama. That's saying something."

"How much drama can there be here?" she asks.

It's his turn to laugh, and he does it with heart. His laugh is infectious and adorable, and she thinks she's falling in love with it a little bit.

"When you get home, go to a website called GossipGirl," he says. "That'll answer your question."

He knows it's incriminating. There's stuff about him on there that she probably doesn't need to know, but he figures she's only here for the summer, and he doesn't know her very well at all, and if she starts to hate him, maybe that's not such a big deal.

But they've been talking for close to two hours, and he's hung on her every word. She's told him a lot of things she really didn't have to, so maybe it's not so bad if she knows some things about him.

And anyway, if she starts to hate him, he's almost certain he'll probably spend the rest of his summer trying to get on her good side again.

**----**

Thoughts? Worth continuing? Let me know...


	2. Something in a Star

Blair shows up at Peyton's door wearing a navy blue jumper that would look ridiculous on anyone else. It's a pair of shorts with silver buttons all the way up the front, and just thick straps over her delicate shoulders. A couple of the little buttons are undone at the top, and she's got a white belt cinched at the waist. Her headband is navy and white, and her white handbag has silver detail that matches her outfit.

Peyton is wearing a denim skirt and a black camisole. She feels under dressed.

"Hi!" Blair chirps, walking into the foyer of the house. Her wedge sandals tap against the marble, and Peyton shakes her head as she closes the door.

"What's up?"

"Heard you had coffee with Nate," Blair says, an indiscernible look on her face. "I felt left out."

"Oh. Sorry," Peyton says with a laugh. She's not sure if Blair was joking or not; she's not sure if she should laugh.

"It's nice to have another girl around. Chuck and Nate can do boy things. You're coming with me."

"Where, exactly?" Peyton asks with a furrowed brow.

"I have to go to the city for a few things," Blair says, shrugging one shoulder. "We can have lunch."

"Um...sure," Peyton says after a moment's deliberation.

Because why not? She's not doing anything else, and she's laid by the pool two afternoons in a row, and if she spends any more time trying to draw things that aren't coming to her, she'll scream. And Blair seems nice. Sweet and kind of funny, and maybe Peyton should make an effort, since it's clear Blair is.

"Okay, but can I please pick out something for you to wear?"

Peyton laughs and looks down at her clothes, and she thinks that this girl kind of reminds her of Brooke a little bit. But Blair is just different enough to be refreshing instead of depressing. Blair doesn't have Peyton's boy.

But surprisingly, the longer she's away from Tree Hill, the less Lucas feels like her boy. He never was, and he'll never be (she knows this; just knows) and that's okay. It's almost startlingly okay; like she's surprised she never really realized it before.

And she thinks it's been _okay_ since the first time she saw that other boy. Nathaniel. She even likes to _think_ his name.

"I'll show you my closet," Peyton says, starting up the stairs with Blair following close behind.

Blair notes the beautiful decor of a home she's always loved but has never been in, and she notes the scar on Peyton's leg that Nate filed her in on. Their new 'friend' has been through a lot, and Blair thinks she definitely has a little life experience. Maybe as much as her own group of friends. Maybe more, so long as Nate wasn't exaggerating.

"Oh my God. This is your closet?" Blair says, taking in the sight of countless pairs of designer jeans and tops, bathing suits and dresses and a couple gowns.

"Sort of. Diane got it all."

"Amazing. This is the Burberry trench I've wanted!" Blair proclaims. "Not _fair_."

"You can't just buy it?" Peyton asks cluelessly.

"They're a limited release," Blair giggles. She loves it when people don't know about these kinds of things.

"Oh," Peyton laughs. Of course, she had no clue. To her it's just a jacket she'll probably never wear. "Right."

"Oh. You're wearing this." Blair pulls a blue and green silk dress from the closet and hands it to Peyton, then searches for shoes and accessories.

"Are you serious? This seems a little...much," Peyton says. She does love this dress, though.

"Just trust me."

And Peyton does, for some reason. Blair, the few times Peyton has seen her, has been wearing amazing clothes and looked perfectly perfect. She doesn't necessarily stand out, but she doesn't exactly blend in either. Nate told Peyton that Blair's mother is a fashion designer. That probably has a lot to do with it.

So Peyton steps into the ensuite bathroom and changes into the dress, and she immediately feels a little better. It's silly, she thinks, that a dress can make her feel so different, so worthy. It's not that she fits in yet, or that she even really wants to fit in, but she feels like she could if she wanted to.

And for a reason she can't really put her finger on, she wonders what Nate would say if he saw her wearing this.

"I love it. You have a great frame," Blair says when Peyton steps out. "That dress is amazing."

"Oh. Thank you," Peyton says shyly.

"Shoes. Belt. I'll meet you downstairs." Blair points to the things she's set on the bed before making her way to the door, and Peyton reaches for the black belt, wondering how in the world Blair thought to put it all together.

She grabs a big green bag, hoping that it'll be acceptable, and slips her feet in the black shoes Blair chose. She pulls her hair from its ponytail and checks the mirror, and she's almost amazed at how she looks. Thank you, Blair, she thinks.

She walks down the stairs and she sees Blair standing at the open door, and one of those fancy town cars waiting in the drive. Blair smiles at her handy work and compliments Peyton on her choice of bag. They step into the car and drive back to the city, talking and laughing the entire time.

Peyton likes Blair a lot, actually. She's clever and intelligent and funny, and quite sweet. She and Peyton talk about Blair and Chuck's relationship, and Peyton talks about Lucas and Jake, but she doesn't name names and Blair smiles at the gossip of people she doesn't even really know.

They spend their day shopping in the city, getting looks from boys and appreciative nods from upper class women, and for the first time since Peyton left Tree Hill, she feels like she belongs somewhere. Anywhere. Like maybe, somehow, she fits into this world just a little better than she ever fit into her own.

They eat lunch at a pretty upscale little restaurant, and they laugh over a man at the bar who sends them martinis. They drink their drinks, smile sweetly as thanks, and then Blair tosses down her credit card to pay for their meal.

"So we're having dinner with the boys at Chuck's place tonight. I hope you didn't have plans," Blair says.

"Considering you are the only people I know?" Peyton says with a laugh. "I think my schedule's clear."

And her heart races a little bit. She wants to see Nate. He's one of 'the boys'. Blair had explained that afternoon that Chuck is only in the Hamptons on weekends, since he's CEO of his own company. Nate is there all the time, and Blair travels back and forth, usually taking off for an evening mid-week when she misses Chuck. They're barely three weeks into the summer, but it seems they have their schedules worked out.

They drive back to the Hamptons early in the evening, both with shopping bags from stores that Peyton never thought she'd shop in. But, well, she's got money to spend now, and she's not going to college. She's not going to spend it all, but she can spend a little bit. She bought an amazing dress and a pair of jeans that would make Brooke jealous.

And she had _fun_. Her day with Blair has been amazing, and she's happy it's not ending. She noticed the little mentions of Nate's name, and she wonders if his explanation that Blair was the sweetest girl with the most rebellious side is true. She wonders if maybe her new girlfriend is a bit of a schemer.

The things Blair says about him aren't big declarations. They're just little hints. Like his favourite colour, or that he loves soccer, or that he's a big fan of lazy days.

Peyton smiles to herself after every tiny bit of information Blair gives, because Nate has already told her all those things himself, and they've really only hung out once. She likes that.

The car pulls up to the house that must be Chuck's, not too far from where she's staying, she notes, and she knows that Nate is inside. She finds herself taking a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. She really can't remember the last time she was this worked up over a guy.

Well, she can. But that's all in the past.

But there's something about _this_ guy. Something a little familiar, but completely different.

He's gorgeous, sure. He's got hair a colour she's never actually seen before and couldn't describe if she wanted to (she might be able to draw it though) and a smile so perfect it gives her butterflies. She's no stranger to blue eyes. She's really not. These blue eyes? These are different. They're almost navy, and they shine when he laughs, and when he looks at her after he's made a joke, she sees just a little bit of black in there somehow.

But that's not it. It's not just his eyes or his smile or his hair or the body she can tell is perfect beneath his expensive shirts.

She wishes she could put her finger on it. Part of her loves that she can't. She loves that he's as much a mystery to her as she is to everyone else.

Blair has the driver bring their bags inside for them, and Chuck's waiting at the door to greet his girlfriend.

"Sweetheart," he says, a contradiction to the type of businessman Blair says he is. He kisses his girl chastely and Peyton smiles. They're in love and it's adorable, especially after hearing the whole story that afternoon over perfume samples at Bergdorf's.

"We shopped," Blair says, her eyes sparkling as their bags are set inside the house.

"I see that," Chuck laughs. "Peyton, how are you. Nice of you to join us."

"I think Nate'll be _thrilled_," Blair says softly, and Chuck shakes his head at her meddling. She always was a bit of a meddler.

But Peyton's wondering what they know that she doesn't.

"Come in. Drinks?" Chuck offers. "Let me guess. You're a hard liquor kind of girl."

"How'd you know?" Peyton asks with a laugh.

"It's a gift," Chuck says, shrugging one shoulder.

She hopes no one notices that her breath catches in her throat when she sees Nate standing there with a beer in one hand, stirring something in a pot on the stove. He's wearing a shirt that matches his eyes, and a smile that she thinks she wants to kiss.

She reminds herself that she really knows nothing about him.

"Wow," he says softly, though everyone in the room hears him. He's eyeing Peyton in a way that's not subtle at all. She's not really used to that. "Hey. Sorry. You look great."

"Thanks," Peyton says coyly as Chuck and Blair watch on, amused. She'd probably throw something at them if she knew them better. "Blair's handywork."

"I just pulled the dress from the closet," Blair says, and Nate raises his brow. Blair always takes credit. He thinks it has to mean something that she isn't.

But then he recognizes something in her eyes and he knows she's scheming. He shoots her a look that he knows Peyton won't decode, and she just smiles at him.

"So, do you know how to cook?" Peyton asks Chuck as he takes over Nate's task. She looks confused when they all start to laugh.

"No," Chuck says. "But when it's prepared for you, it's easy to heat up."

"I like your style, Bass," Peyton says. He smiles at her like she's just said some sort of magic words, and Nate and Blair share another look. The brunette widens her eyes at him, and he furrows his brow until he understands.

"_Drinks_. Right," Nate says, turning to Peyton. "Come with me?"

He forms it like a question because he doesn't want to boss her around, and she loves that. He's adorable, really, in that way that is a fine line between sweet and ridiculously sexy. And she gets the feeling that he has no clue how gorgeous he is, either. That helps.

She walks with him to the next room, Blair's giggles following them down the hall, and when he smiles at her, she feels like maybe he's, by some fluke, as nervous as she is.

"Sorry about before with the...staring," he says bashfully. "You just look...Blaired."

"Is that a bad thing?" she laughs.

"Depends," he says, and they both smile. "I thought you looked great before, too."

She bites her lip a little, because that's always what she's done when she's been given some sort of compliment. She can feel herself blushing, and she doesn't care if he sees any of it.

She looks away after a moment, then walks over to a table behind a sofa and starts looking at photographs. A little girl she knows is Blair, a little boy she knows is Chuck. And a little Nate. For sure a little Nate.

"Oh my God. Look at you!"

"Oh no," he mumbles. "It's bad."

"No it's not," she insists as he stands next to her. "So cute."

"Look at my hair. That's _not_ cute."

"I believe that you can't hold a child's hair or wardrobe against them, because they don't have a say in it," she states with confidence, and he laughs and nods his head at her. "Who's this?"

"That's...that's Serena," he says softly, looking at the picture of the spirited girl with the long blonde hair. It's a photo taken just the year prior of the four of them together. He and Blair, Chuck and Serena. It's crazy, he thinks, how far she's drifted from them in the last month; maybe more than that. He briefly wonders if it'll be like before, when she left, then came back and thought everything would just be the same. He's not sure it will. He's not sure it won't, either.

"She's beautiful."

"She is."

"Nathaniel!" Chuck's voice calls. Nate closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Scotch me!"

He rolls his eyes, but he's thankful for the timing. He doesn't want to get into the whole saga of Serena, whose whereabouts he's still not entirely certain of. And somehow, standing next to Peyton, he's not really sure he cares as much anymore.

He pours her a glass of scotch, neat, as she's asked (he's impressed), and one for Chuck. He mixes a vodka martini for Blair, and the two of them walk back to the kitchen.

They chat over dinner about the girls' day and Chuck's week and Nate's time spent doing, well, next to nothing. Blair suggest that maybe Peyton and Nate start doing 'next to nothing' together, and they both blush, but they don't notice each other doing it. Chuck smiles across the table at Blair and loves that, even given the history, she can still try to help Nate's love life. He'd call it pathetic if he didn't know that Nate could get basically any girl he wants.

Almost.

But now isn't the time to be thinking about Serena. She's off in Fiji - only Chuck knows, sworn to secrecy by his step-sister and by Blair, who refuses to tell Nate the girl is with Carter. Chuck's got to believe, however, that in the past year, with Nate's relationship with Vanessa, no matter how unstable and maybe unfortunate that was, and his brief re-connect with Blair (Chuck would love to hate that), that perhaps the guy isn't as hung up on Serena as everyone thought.

And the way he looks at Peyton when she's not looking at him lets both Chuck and Blair that maybe there's a new blonde who'll steal his attention from now on.

They have some sort of chocolatey, heavenly dessert that none of them can name, and they sit outside for a while, letting the sun go down around them. All that Peyton can think is maybe that's a moment she wants to draw. New friends, smiles, comfort. It doesn't matter what they are wearing or what they do to make money or what their last names are; how long she's known them or how much they know about her life. It matters that they are accepting her and treating her like she's been their friend forever.

Blair explains that she's staying with Chuck for the night, though that's no surprise, and Chuck suggests that _Nathaniel_ walk Peyton home on his way.

Nate wants to kill the both of them. But as much as he hates them for meddling so much, he's definitely alright with the prospect of walking with Peyton through the darkness.

He really does find her refreshing. Beautiful and funny and unpredictable. He feels like if she'd grown up with them, their foursome would be a five-some. He can't help but think that may not have been a good thing. He had a hard enough time torn between two girls. He definitely didn't need a third.

He wouldn't, however, change that she's here now.

He carries her bags for her, though she insists he doesn't need to, and he laughs when she tells him that the boys she knows wouldn't probably even offer. He honestly can't decide whether impressing her is going to be easy or hard. All he knows is that he wants to do it.

"So you had fun?" he asks worriedly as they step onto the street. "I know they can be a little..."

"No," she says before he can finish. "It was great. I really like them."

"Them?" He turns to look at her and she rolls her eyes dramatically.

"You," she says softly. "I like it here. I hate that I do, but I do."

"Why do you hate that you like it?" he asks, though his heart is beating in his ears upon her saying that she likes him. It's not a playground, he thinks, but even that simple sentiment thrills him a little. He honestly can't remember the last time he felt that.

"Because I shouldn't. I'm not...I've never been about any of this stuff." She turns to him and he looks adorably confused. "Money and clothes and...all this." She points to a huge house they're walking past, and he lets out a soft laugh and nods his head.

"Maybe it's not about that," he says. "Maybe it's the company."

"Maybe," she says with a laugh. She doesn't know why she's laughing. Maybe because he's right and she hates to admit it.

"Wow."

"What?"

"You didn't see it?" he asks. She shakes her head and looks back to where he was looking in the sky. "Shooting star."

The last real shooting star she saw was the summer before. She and Lucas were sitting on the porch of his house and they both saw the streak of light.

She's sad she's missed this one with Nate. Now she'll have a memory of this boy and this summer and the phenomenon she missed. But she was busy looking at him, and maybe her feeling something for this virtual stranger is a whole other phenomenon.

He walks her to her door and she pulls out her keys, and she thinks the night is ending too quickly.

"You didn't check GossipGirl," he states.

She wonders how he knows.

"No."

"How come?" he asks. There's a smile on his face and she's not sure what it's about, but she likes it.

"Peoples' secrets should stay their own," she says, shrugging one shoulder.

If he wasn't completely intrigued by her before, he certainly is now. Because he wants to know her secrets, if she has any.

"Hey," he says as she pushes the door open. "You wanna do next to nothing with me tomorrow?"

She smiles and locks eyes with him, and she's nodding her head at him because she's afraid that if she opens her mouth, she'll say something stupid.

He knows that Chuck and Blair will be occupied with one another. He knows he can hang out with Peyton without interruption.

For a split second - well, longer than a split second - she wants to kiss him. She hasn't kissed someone in far too long. She wants to kiss Nate. Badly. But she just tells him to come over tomorrow, whenever, and he smiles and tells her goodnight before she pushes the door closed and locks it behind her.

She didn't expect a Nate. She expected a summer of solitude. The season has barely started, though, and she knows it's all going to be different than she thought.

Because there's a Nate.


	3. Beautiful Distraction

She's on the phone with Nathan when Nate shows up at 11:00, and it all gets very confusing. She pulls the door open and holds up her index finger apologetically to Nate. He starts walking behind her, and she's wearing a pair of skinny jeans and bare feet, and a funky purple tank top over a tighter black one.

And she's _sexy_.

He could really, really get used to following her around.

"No! No, it's not like that at all...Well, yeah, it's big...Like, three times the size of your mom's place...I told you!...Um, I've met some people...Yeah, they're nice...Chuck and Blair and Nate." She throws him a look over her shoulder as he follows her into the kitchen, and he smiles. "Not answering that. How's Jamie?...I'm not changing the subject...No. Not after that question...Nate!" Nate looks at her and she shakes her head at him, but he looks confused. "Not you...No. _Nathan_, _you_...Nate...Oh, my god. Nathan _Scott_. I'm hanging up...Kiss Jamie for me. And Haley...Platonically, perv." Nate smiles and she rolls her eyes. "Later, Scott."

She hangs ends the call and drops her cell on the counter and blows out her breath in frustration.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey," Nate laughs.

"Sorry about that. My friend Nathan...He's..."

"Your ex? The married one with the kid?"

"That's the one," she says, shaking her head.

"So what weren't you going to answer?" he asks, smiling at her as she pours them each glasses of water.

"I'm not telling you, either, buddy." She kinks her brow and he laughs and nods at her. She certainly can't let him know that Nathan asked if she's met anyone she might have a summer fling with. "Wanna go outside?"

"It's too hot," he says, looking at her like she's insane.

"Thank God," she breathes out, relieved. "I thought you'd want to be all active or something."

"No," he laughs.

"OK, so don't judge me," she starts, walking towards the media room, "but there's a documentary about Elvis on that I totally want to watch."

He tips his head back a little and laughs, and she smiles at him. She told him of her love of music, and he'd seemed intrigued by it.

"No judging," he insists. "My grandmother loves Elvis."

"Shut up!" she cries as she laughs. He cowers a little when she swats his arm, and he sits down on the sofa next to her when she flops down.

She switches on the television and they watch in mostly silence. Well, she watches. He's completely distracted by her. She's so different from New York girls in all the best ways. She wears different clothes, and her accent floors him. Her skin is (naturally) permanently sun-kissed and she doesn't seem to care what her hair looks good. He thinks it looks pretty damn good anyway. She laughs with abandon and she puts her feet up on the coffee table.

And she smells different. It's not some obscure mix of chemicals and molecules. It's natural. Sweet. Like fresh air and laundry and lavender and vanilla or coconut or something. It's not Gucci or Dior or Chanel. It's not a brand. It's a mix of things. It's wonderfully her.

"I was supposed to go to L.A.," she says after the show ends. Next up is a show set in L.A., based on the stresses of being an actor. "I mean, I wanted to."

"Why?" he asks. He's been there. It's nothing special. He can't picture her there.

"To work in the music industry. I applied for an internship, but I got turned down."

"Wow. Sorry."

She shrugs her shoulders, though he knows it's a bigger deal than she's letting on. "Oh well."

"Just come to New York and work for Diddy or something," he says, very well aware that it's lame and he knows nothing about the music industry, but she laughs, and that was his objective.

"You know, New York doesn't seem like such a bad idea," she says quietly after they've stopped laughing.

"Are you kidding? It's the best," he tells her. "Seriously. I mean, it's the best city in the world."

"I dunno. You ever been to Wilmington, North Carolina?" she asks jokingly, that accent out in full force when she says her state's name.

"I don't think I've ever even _heard_ of Wilmington, North Carolina," he says, mimicking her inflection. Badly. She laughs and purses her lips and shakes her head at him.

"You wanna see something cool?" she asks.

He nods and she stands. She extends her hand to him for some reason, and he places his palm in hers, just momentarily, then lets go.

She leads him down the hall and into a room that looks a little like a library, and he looks around a bit before he notices what she's looking at. There's a wall of photographs, and she's standing in front of one in particular.

"You see this?" she asks, pointing to a blonde-haired little girl standing with a woman kneeling in front of her. "That's me and my mom."

"Whoa," he says.

It looks like some sort of family gathering, probably for Howard's company, and there are plenty of people milling around some park. Howard is shaking the hand of someone in the foreground of the photo. Peyton and her mother aren't the focal point of the picture at all, but suddenly it's all he can see.

"I think this was the last picture ever taken of her," she says quietly, smiling at the photo.

"What?" he asks. He realizes that the only thing they didn't talk about the other day was their families.

"She died like, a couple weeks later."

She didn't tell him about any of this the day in the coffee shop. She wondered if it is still just hard to talk about, or if there's something else. But Nate doesn't seem shell-shocked or nervous talking about it. She finds herself wondering why that might be; what his past might be like.

"Peyton...I'm sorry," he whispers, because he can't think of anything else and he doesn't want to be insensitive.

"Yeah."

He takes a closer look at the woman and the little girl. They're both smiling, but Peyton's looking away from her mother and towards something or someone else, and yet Anna's gaze is fixed solely on the little girl before her. He finds himself thinking it's a beautiful picture.

"She loves you," he states with some sort of quiet confidence.

She _adores_ that he didn't use the past tense.

He's not sure what makes him do it, but he drapes his arm around her shoulder and pulls her against him a little bit, and she laughs nervously before he releases her. It's just a little one-armed hug, but it comforts her, and she didn't even really know that she needed comforting. He did.

She _likes_ him.

"Hey, are you coming to the party tonight?" he asks, thought they're both looking at all the other photos on the wall.

"Um...I think this is the one party I wasn't invited to," she says with a laugh.

"Well, you're coming with me," he insists. She shakes her head in protest, and he can tell she's about to come up with some lame excuse, and he won't let her. He doesn't want her to. "You wouldn't make me go alone, would you?"

"You were going alone until 30 seconds ago."

"But now I've got my heart set on having you there," he says, grinning at her in a way that makes her roll her eyes. Because if she doesn't roll her eyes, she's sure she'll just stare at his lips until he kisses her. "Come on. Please?"

"Promise I'll have fun?" she asks after a moment.

"I promise," he says sincerely.

She believes him. She has no reason not to. The few times she's been around him, she's always had fun.

He leaves a little while later, and Peyton promptly calls Blair for fashion advice.

She really shouldn't care as much as she does.

----

"Who was that?" Chuck asks from his place on the sofa after Blair hangs up. She's got a smile on her face that he adores, and he can tell there's something going on.

"Nate invited Peyton to the party."

"Oh, _did he_?" he asks in amusement.

"And she asked me what she should wear. I think she likes him," Blair says.

"Blair, perhaps we should leave this one alone," he suggests. She looks at him like he's insane, and he just smiles and leans over to kiss her. "You can't do that, can you?"

"I could, but it'd be no fun. And Peyton seems really nice."

"She does."

"And she's different. But not _Vanessa_ different," Blair says with disdain. "Good different."

"So how do we get them together?" he asks, smiling at her, knowing she'll love that he's with her on this.

"What happened to leaving it alone?"

"I just love scheming with you," he says. "It's something we haven't done in far too long."

She kisses him quickly, placing her hand on his cheek, and she's smiling when she pulls away. "They spent the day together. They didn't need our prompting with that."

"Perhaps Nathaniel is finally learning to do things on his own."

"Chuck!"

"Blair, he's always needed help," he says, and she rolls her eyes, but she knows he's right.

"I'll need to think about it," she says as she stands from her place.

"Where are you going?"

"To pick out the perfect outfit to make Nate crazy," she says, grinning at him. He nods his head and reaches for her hand, placing a kiss to the inside of her wrist and winking before he watches her leave the room.

----

She's standing on yet another perfect lawn with piped in music playing and impeccably dressed people milling around. She may be one of them. She's not sure when that happened. Right around the time Blair walked into her bedroom and pulled this outfit from the closet.

It's just a black skirt with a high waist, funky pockets, and a visible silver zipper all the way up the back. She paired it with a plain white tank top that's tucked beneath the fabric of the skirt, a pair of black heels, and a silver clutch bag, and told Peyton she was all set.

Nate looked highly amused and definitely appreciative when he picked her up. He told her she looked great, and she thanked him before they started towards the party.

She watches Blair laugh at something Chuck has said, and then her eyes drift to Nate again (they're always doing that) as he makes small-talk with the owner of the house and the man's wife. Peyton had excused herself to use the washroom, and her 'friends', though it's still a little strange to call them that, had dispersed to make appearances when she returned. It's alright though. She's beginning to understand the obligations and expectations Nate, Chuck and Blair have to live with.

Nate walks back towards her just as she's finished her second drink of the night, and she smiles as he approaches.

"Sorry, I just had to..."

"No, no," she says, waving off his apology. "It's okay."

"You see that man there?" he says, pointing to a silver-haired man in a linen suit. Peyton nods her head and Nate smiles. "He's the head of an indie movie company."

"That's cool," she says, though she's wondering what that has to do with anything.

"He's married to her." He points to a woman who doesn't look any older than about 25, and Peyton's eyes go wide. "And he's having an affair with her." His eyes flick towards a busty blonde who's flirting with a man by the pool, and Peyton can't believe it. "Welcome to summer in the Hamptons."

"You know what though? Things like this happen everywhere," she says. "If our small town rumour mill is even partially right."

"Well, your town _is_ insane," he says, making them both laugh.

"I guess it kind of is."

There's a beat of silence between them, and all Peyton notices is how close her hand is to his. All she has to do is move it a little bit to the left and their skin will be touching. He'll smile at her and she'll smile at him and they won't stop holding hands for the rest of the night. Or at least that's how she's imagining it.

"You want to go?" he asks, looking right at her. "We don't have to stay."

"Go where?" She's almost certain she's flirting. Her tone is coy, and she's looking at him through her eyelashes, and she knows there's a little smile on her face.

"Anywhere? I don't know. My place?" he suggests, shrugging his shoulder. "We don't have to or anything. I mean, if you want to stay..."

"Nate," she says, placing her hand on his arm. "Let's go."

They wave to Chuck and Blair, whose smiles Peyton can't really read, and Nate rests his hand on the small of her back as they walk through the house to the front door.

"You want to walk?" she asks. "I kind of feel like walking."

"It's not that close," he says.

She shrugs her shoulder at him and he's convinced. The sun isn't even going down yet, and it's kind of a perfect temperature. He wants to walk with her and talk about whatever. He's happy she wanted to escape the party.

He can't get her off his mind. It's crazy, really, because he's only just met her. But he likes her. She's as sweet as she is sarcastic, and he feels like she isn't ever really hiding anything.

They start walking and making fun of the people at the party. He tells he absurd true stories of the lives of some of the people she was introduced to, and her eyes go wide at some of the tales. She asks how people can live like that, and she apologizes when she realizes what she's said. He tells her not to worry about it, as long as she wasn't clumping him into that group. He knows he's a part of it, but he likes that she doesn't really see him that way.

Her honesty really is refreshing.

Somewhere along the way, after he's told her about his grandfather and his father and how his mother is out traveling the world or something, she slips her hand into his. She doesn't know why she does it, other than she's been thinking about it all night. He smiles at her and she smiles back, and he weaves their fingers together, and there's something really innocent about it all. They're just talking and getting to know one another, but she could remember the way his hand felt from that one time she shook it, and she wanted to feel that again.

She steps out of her shoes and he laughs. She asks what's so funny, and he just shakes his head and says that if Blair knew she was walking around barefoot instead of in those expensive shoes, she'd probably have a heart attack. Peyton shrugs her shoulders again and he squeezes her hand. She loves that he does.

When they arrive at his place, he unlocks the door without ever letting go of her hand, and he pulls her inside. She's looking around at the decor, and she seriously questions (mentally; she doesn't dare say it out loud) how much money his family has. It's grand and a little traditional and she likes it, but she doesn't fit in. She kind of feels like he doesn't, either.

She's giggling over more photos of him as they walk down a corridor, and he tells her that she's mean. She playfully apologizes, and they both know she doesn't really mean it. It's alright though, because he doesn't really need her to.

"So you're here all by yourself?" she asks, glancing at paintings on the wall as they walk into a large sitting room.

"Yeah. I was supposed to backpack eastern Europe, but...that kind of fell through."

"How come?" she asks bluntly, letting go of his hand so she can sit on the sofa. She doesn't know why it matters; she's just happy she's met him and that he's there at all.

He sits next to her, turning his body to hers a little bit. "Because I was going to go with the girl I was with. We broke up."

"Oh," she says, laughing softly. "Yeah, traveling foreign countries with an ex doesn't exactly sound like a great summer."

"Not exactly," he agrees.

"So why come out here? Why not just stay in New York?"

"I've always come here for summers. It'd feel weird not to," he explains. "And...I've got good company here."

She looks over at him and smiles, and he bows his head a little. God, he's adorable.

"Yeah? Who?" she asks.

He grins at her and shakes his head and he's trying to think of the perfect answer. _You_ seems pretty simple, and it'd probably make her swoon. He could explain that Chuck and Blair are around. He could tell her that he likes the quiet of the big house. He could say that he's glad that he met her and that she's probably going to be a big part of his summer.

None of that sounds right.

So he kisses her instead.


	4. I Just Want You Close

She wakes up in the morning in a strange room, on a ridiculously comfortable sofa, with a new pair of arms around her, and a near irresistible scent radiating from the chest she lays against.

_Nate_.

They'd spent their evening kissing. Innocently, mostly. No roaming hands (he told her he didn't want to rush anything) or declarations of how badly they wanted each other. It was implied in the way she placed her hand on the back of his neck, and the way he placed his hand on her thigh. The way he'd brush his lips against hers softly after a particularly long, languorous kiss. He treated her like she was some kind of perfect girl, and she didn't want to tell him that she wasn't in case it made him stop looking at her what that kind of affection he always seemed to have in his eyes.

He's still asleep, and she's afraid to move. She doesn't want to wake up. She can hear his breathing and a little throaty noise every so often, and she can hear his heart beating steadily beneath her cheek. She also fears that if she tries to move, she'll fall backwards off the sofa.

Not that she needs an excuse to stay in his arms.

She tightens her hold on him just a little bit, and she catches sight of the time displayed on an old clock sitting on the wall at the end of the room. 11:30.

Her phone rings, startling them both, and Nate squeezes her a little before kissing her forehead and letting her sit up to reach for her cell.

"Hello?...Yeah, I just woke up." She glances at Nate, who barely has his eyes open, but has a private smile on his face. She rests her hand on his stomach as she speaks. "No, it's good...Just tired, I guess...I was at this party thing, and...Yeah...Brooke...Brooke!" She laughs and Nate weaves his fingers together with hers. "I gotta go...I gotta go!...Because I woke up with someone, and he's laying here looking at me like he wants me to kiss him, and I fully intend on it."

She ends the call and drops her phone on the table as Nate laughs. Peyton knows Brooke is probably going crazy and will be calling back any second, but she really does want to kiss Nate. So she does. She leans down and presses her lips to his, and he lets his hand tangle in her hair.

"Mmm. 'Morning," he murmurs, the first words he's spoken.

He knows all about Brooke. He wonders if Brooke knows about him, too.

Her phone rings, and she laughs and shows him Brooke's name on the screen.

"Take it," he insists. "Breakfast?" She just nods and kisses him quickly before she stands. "Meet me in the kitchen."

He hears her say his name as he's walking from the room, and he smiles to himself. Part of him still can't believe he was so forward with her. He'd just wanted to kiss her, so he kissed her. She kissed him back. It was amazing.

He can barely remember having that much fun making out. Just kissing. He's one of the rare boys who is happy just to kiss. He loves it. There's something ridiculously sexy about just making out. It doesn't always have to lead somewhere. And Peyton had tasted like summer and watermelon lip balm and the champagne she'd had to drink, and he loved kissing her.

"No, I'm not...I don't know...We'll see, I guess," Peyton says as she walks into the kitchen. "Okay. Say hi to everyone for me. And tell Luke to call me, the loser...Seriously. I haven't talked to him in like, a week and a half...Alright...Love you too. Bye."

She watches Nate pour two cups of coffee, and she's standing across from him with the counter separating them. His hair is mussed, and he looks tired. His shirt is wrinkled and his eyes are just a little bleary.

He looks up and smiles and she tries to pretend she wasn't just staring, but he says, "you want to kiss me, don't you?" She opens her mouth to protest, but she's smiling, and they both know she really does want to kiss him. "Come here."

She walks around the counter and he places a hand lazily on her hip just before his lips touch hers. She doesn't know how a boy like him is so gentle. She likes it, though.

"So," she says, resting her hand on his shoulder as she stands next to him. "Anything gourmet?"

"Fruit. Toast. Coffee." He points to each item as he speaks, and he laughs at his lack of culinary ability.

"Balanced," she says, nodding appreciatively. She grabs a piece of toast and takes a bite, and he chuckles again when she goes, "mmm."

"You're too kind," he says dryly.

They move to the kitchen table, and she sits close to them, their legs getting all tangled up together, and they sip coffee and laugh about their evening and waking up in their clothes. She says she should probably get home at some point, but that he might need to help her, because she doesn't know where home is in relation to his place. He's just told her he'll walk her back later and she's about to question what 'later' means when Blair's voice calls out to him.

"Nate? Nate! Where are you?"

"Kitchen!" he shouts back. He turns back to Peyton and gives her a look she can't decode, and he whispers, "sorry."

Peyton isn't sure what he's apologizing for. As far as she's concerned, he's got nothing to be sorry about.

"Nate, you want to come to lunch with...Oh." Blair stops in her tracks when she sees the little scene before her, then she puts her hand on her hip. She smiles and raises her brow. "_Oh_."

"Hi, Blair," Peyton says, faking nonchalance.

So that's what he's apologizing for.

"You slept here. You...you two spent the night together," Blair says. It's clear she's finding all of this highly amusing. "In your clothes."

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" Peyton asks with a laugh.

Blair shrugs her shoulder and sits down at the table. She reaches for a grape and tosses it in her mouth. "_So_. How are_ you two_?"

"Just fine, thank you," Peyton says, and the girls laugh.

"Alright. Well, it looks like Chuck and I are lunching alone," Blair says, sending Nate a secret smile. "He's going back to the city tonight."

"I have to go to Columbia on Thursday," Nate explains. "Tell him I'll call him."

"I'll see you guys later. Probably _together_."

Nate curses beneath his breath and Blair laughs all the way to the door.

"Sorry. She has a key from...before. She won't give it back."

"That doesn't really surprise me," Peyton says, making Nate laugh. She takes a sip of her coffee, and it's hot, and it's hot out, and she wants to eat popsicles and lounge around in cotton shorts. With Nate. All summer.

She's crazy about him, and it's scaring her.

"So we should...Should we talk?" he asks, and it seems he's afraid to even broach the subject.

"About what?" she teases, and he shakes his head at her. "You're right. We should."

"You go," he insists, and her jaw drops. Of course, he'd say he wants to talk, then he'd make her start.

"Nate, I don't...I don't do this, really. I'm not...I don't just kiss guys I barely know."

"That's oddly comforting."

"I just mean you're...different. There's something...different about you."

"Well, I'm pretty charming," he manages to say with a straight face. She rolls her eyes at him and he takes her hand over the table.

"I just feel like...like I like you," she says quietly. "And I haven't _liked_ anyone in a really long time." He smiles and runs his thumb across her knuckles. "I just...okay, you go."

He shoots her an amused grin, and his eyes are shining at her, and she really just wants him to talk already. Or kiss her. Or talk and then kiss her.

"I definitely like you," he admits. "And I mean...my year...It sucked, and it's...this summer is definitely for me to...I dunno...figure things out. But...now there's you." Her face changes a little and he smiles reassuringly. "And I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah?"

"And it's crazy that I'm like, pouring my heart out to you when I've really only hung out with you a handful of times," he says with a laugh.

"I don't make a habit of it either," she insists. "But...I'm only here until September, and I don't want...If we start this..."

"Then we have fun," he interrupts her. "And get to know each other. And we go from there." She smiles at him like she's almost convinced, and he says, "and make out."

"I'm good with the making out."

"Oh, I _know_ you are," he says, his eyebrows raising a couple times. "I don't want to say _have fun _and have that mean anything...bad...I just want to hang out with you. I'm not..."

"Nate," she says softly, smiling at him and leaning forward. "You can stop talking now."

"Can I?" he asks jokingly, and she nods. "Thanks." He leans forward and kisses her, and he wonder if she's as good at everything as she is at kissing. Because she's damn good at kissing. "You want me to take you home?"

"Not really," she says.

"Good."

They finish their breakfast and somehow end up in his bedroom. She flops back on his bed and lays there while he walks around, picking out clothes for his day and moving around the space comfortably. It's a little messy, he realizes, but he kind of likes that Peyton doesn't seem to care. She's just laying there on his bed with her head propped up on her hand as she lays on her side, and she smiles at him when he puts on the Metric album she never would have guessed he owns.

"What?" he asks when he notices her staring. He realizes then that he was unbuttoning his white shirt, and he laughs at himself. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," she mumbles, and she thinks she's done it softly enough that he won't hear, but the smirk he sends her makes her blush. "Why does Chuck call you Nathaniel?"

Sure, she's changing the subject, but she also really just wants to know.

"Because he's Chuck," Nate laughs. "He never does anything like everyone else does."

"He's your best friend?"

"He's...yeah." She kinks her brow and he laughs and sighs and sits next to her. "We've had our fights."

"Girls?" she asks knowingly.

"How'd you know?"

"Kind of the universal divider," she says, and he nods. "Guys always fight over girls, girls always fight over guys." She reaches for his hand and tugs it, and he moves so he's laying next to her. "I have to be honest. I don't really...know how to do this."

"Do what?" he asks, almost laughing.

"This...us. I've never...I mean, the people that I know, I've basically known forever."

"Me too."

"So why aren't you freaking out?" she asks seriously. She's toying with one of the buttons of his shirt, and he stills her hand with his own. If she doesn't stop that...

"Because getting to know you seems pretty easy."

"But it's _not_ though. It's not. That's why...Freaking out." She points to herself, and he kisses her quickly.

"Stop freaking out. Just...be normal."

"What if you don't like my normal?" she asks.

He'd love to laugh, because he thinks that sounds just crazy, but he can tell she's having (what seems to him like) a rare self-conscious moment, and so he just brushes the hair from her face and says, "I promise I'll like your normal."

She thinks she'd hate herself if she didn't just let it all go and let herself have a real shot with him. The last boy she really did that with broke her heart.

Nate doesn't have her heart yet. Not even close.

But he's got something.

----

They're lounging in her pool a few days later. Well, not her pool; the pool at the house she's living in. She's a little amazed at his ability to just lay there on a floating chair, partially wet, and not really say much of anything. She can almost feel herself changing, in a good way, and growing up a bit. She knows that's not a bad thing. She just wonders how much she's going to change over the course of this summer, if she's already noticing it after just a few weeks.

It's too heavy a thought for the day. She needs to think of something else.

"Hey, Nate," she says sweetly. He opens his eyes and looks over at her. "Are you hot?"

"Not really," he says, though he probably should be. The sun is already scorching, but he kind of likes it.

"Okay."

He shoots her a strange look, but she looks back to the sky and he turns away from her, shaking his head.

He knows she thinks she's being sneaky when she slides off her lounge chair and into the water, but he can hear her moving. He knows she's going to try to tip him over. He's not going to let her. He peeks at her discreetly with one eye when she's coming towards him, and he throws himself into the water. When he resurfaces, she's almost pouting and she's got her hand on her hip.

"You suck," she tells him, watching as he runs his hand over his face, then through his hair.

"I do not. You just aren't very stealth."

"I can be stealth!"

"Well, you weren't just then," he says, laughing at her.

"I don't like you," she states, scowling at him.

He swims over to her, though it's not very far, and he plants his feet, sweeping her into his arms and holding her tight to him. She takes a deep breath and he says, "yes you do."

She's just pressed her lips to his, really enjoying the feel of his hard, wet body pressed up against hers, when they're interrupted.

"Are you wearing a silver lamé bikini?" Blair comments, eyeing Peyton. No one should be able to rock such a thing. But Peyton is _wearing_ _it_.

"Um...yes, I am," Peyton says skeptically, looking down at herself.

Nate is smiling as he watches her. He's in love with that bikini. He still hasn't let her go, and he doesn't want to, and he didn't know Blair was coming over. She sits on one of the chairs at the edge of the pool and flips her sunglasses back down over her eyes.

"It's amazing," Blair says. She smiles at Nate. He knows what that smile means.

He shakes his head at her needless scheming (because he knows that she's definitely scheming, and it's definitely needless) but he grins at Peyton and watches her cheeks turn pink. "Amazing."

He's not talking about the bathing suit. He's talking about the girl. They all know it.

His hand splays across the small of Peyton's back, and she loves the feeling, and suddenly she doesn't care that they have a witness. Or that they haven't really seen Blair in a few days.

She pulls Nate closer, her arms draped around his neck, and she kisses him like she had planned on doing. It's nothing too much, and when they pull apart, Blair is just shaking her head. Nate blushes a little bit in a way Peyton hasn't seen him do before, and she splashes him before she makes her way to the stairs. When she starts getting out of the pool, he watches the water drip from her skin and her hair, and he absolutely cannot take his eyes off her.

Okay, so the bikini is amazing, too.


	5. The Easy Part

Peyton wakes up on Thursday morning and she hates that she's pouting. Nate is in the city for the day. She should not be so attached to him already, and she knows as much. But he left her a text that she reads before she even gets out of bed, and she thinks he's just adorable.

_'Call u later. I might bring u something. -N'  
_

She lays back on the pillow, smiling over those simple words - she's being such a girl! - and she's still got her phone in her hand when it rings. She hates that she frowns when she sees that it's not him.

But that only lasts a moment and she's grinning as she answers; "Haley James Scott."

"Peyton Marie Sawyer," Haley teases. "Although you sound pretty happy, so I'll stick with Elizabeth."

"How's it going, mommy?"

"Good! Nathan has Jamie at the court with him, so..."

"You're bored," Peyton says knowingly.

"Completely! What did I do before I had a baby?" Haley asks with a laugh.

"Hung out with your awesome friend, Peyton?"

"Yeah. She left though," Haley says, faking a pout. "How are things in the _Hamptons_, anyway?"

"Hot. Humid. Fabulous," Peyton says, taking a posh tone of voice with the last word. "It's good."

"Good," Haley says. Peyton can hear her smiling. "So have you met anyone cool?"

"I love that you say that like you _haven't_ talked to Brooke and heard all about him," she says, and they both laugh. She doesn't say Nate's name. She doesn't need to.

"Yeah, but you know Brooke," Haley says. "She's got him described as some rich, aristocratic, gorgeous, charming, perfect guy."

Peyton laughs again, and says, "well..."

"Shut up. He can't be."

"He kind of is," Peyton insists.

"Spill, girlie!" Haley cries, almost giddy at the prospect of some new gossip.

"He was just...unexpected. And he's sweet. Like...okay, he had to go to New York today, and he texted me saying he'd bring me something."

"Ooo. What do you think it is?"

"I have _no_ idea," Peyton says and they laugh again. "But...I like him."

"Peyton? Peyton Sawyer? _Likes_ someone?" Haley says teasingly.

"And I saw him around a few times before I actually met him. He's so gorgeous."

"Like how gorgeous?"

"Like...he should be in GQ gorgeous."

"Lucky!" Haley cries.

"Right. Because Nathan's so hard on the eyes," Peyton says, and Haley giggles on the other end of the line. "I don't know, Haley. The last time I felt like this..."

"You fell in love with Luke," Haley finishes quietly when Peyton doesn't.

"Yeah," Peyton whispers. "It's...weird."

"Well...you're only there for the summer. I mean, what are you going to do after?"

"That's what I mean," Peyton says. "It's only been like, a couple days? And I'm already worried about the end of the summer."

"And you think it's crazy that you're looking that far ahead," Haley states, trying not to crack up. Peyton's always been a little bit of a commitment-phobe.

"Well, yeah!" Peyton says in exasperation. "I don't...do this. I run away from boys. That's what _I do_!"

"Yeah, you're a bit of a heartbreaker," Haley says with a laugh.

"Not helping!"

"Sorry. Have you tried talking to him?"

"Yeah," Peyton says softly, recalling their conversation. "And the thing is, he's totally relaxed about everything. Like...he makes me calm or something...That's so lame."

"No it's not," Haley insists. "You heard my vows."

"I'm not _marrying_ Nate!" Peyton says, quickly and defensively. She bolts upright in her bed at the thought.

"That's what I said about Nathan," Haley laughs.

"I hate you."

"You love me, and you know it."

"So what do I do?" Peyton asks quietly, like she really needs the advice.

"You could always elope on the beach," Haley suggests, not seriously at all, making them both laugh. "Just have fun with him! It's the summer! You're young!"

"Thanks, Haley," Peyton says sincerely.

"Now, tell me all about this Chuck person..."

Peyton laughs, wondering what, of the short description she gave Brooke, has been passed along. She talks to her friend for a while longer, then she calls Brooke and her dad. She knows she's just trying to pass the time. Part of her hates that she actually misses him.

Another part of her absolutely adores that very same feeling.

----

Nate walks across the Columbia campus feeling completely different than he did even weeks earlier when he did this very same thing. He feels more grown up somehow. He's not technically a student yet, but it feels like he is; like he's a young adult.

All that is on one hand.

On the other hand, all he wants to do is finish up in the city and head back to the Hamptons to continue his summer with the amazing girl he's met. It's totally juvenile, but he wants to spend all his time with her. She's fun and sweet and kind of carefree, and she's made of all the things he wants his summer to be.

He doesn't need to give his name at Chuck's office anymore, and he kind of likes that; it's just one more of those things that makes him feel kind of adult. He can't imagine how Chuck must feel.

"Nathaniel," Chuck says from his place. He stands and they shake hands, because apparently they're shaking hands now. Nate isn't entirely sure when that happened. "How are you?"

"Good. Tired."

"Peyton?" Chuck asks with a raised brow and that crooked grin.

"No," Nate says, shaking his head and trying to downplay the effect that even her name has on him. "It's hot and I've been walking all day."

"Blair says you and the new girl are hitting it off," Chuck says as they move to the chairs in the corner of the room. "She does tend to exaggerate, though."

"Not this time," Nate promises. "She might be understating it, actually."

"So Peyton's...What is she?"

"Amazing?" Nate suggests. Chuck laughs quietly and nods his head. "I dunno. She's...different. But good. I like her. A lot."

"That's good," Chuck assures him.

"Well yeah, but it's different with her. She's...I'm kind of crazy about her," Nate confesses. He looks to his hands, then to the bag at his feet, and he really can't believe he's saying all this. That he's _doing_ all this. "Is that stupid?"

"Well, she's not married, paying you or sleeping with her step-son. She's not your girlfriend's best friend. She's not 15 or a Humphrey, and she's not...from _Brooklyn_," Chuck lists off. Nate rolls his eyes, but even he can concede that his dating history doesn't read very well. "I'd say those are steps in the right direction."

"She's also..."

"Hot?"

"_So_ hot," Nate says and they both laugh. "She's just this cool girl who doesn't care about the expectations or the history."

"Well, how much of the history does she know?" The way Chuck says it lets Nate know he's talking about a couple situations in particular.

"Hardly any."

"I see."

"I don't really know much about hers either," Nate says, as though that'll make it all even. He knows that maybe it doesn't really. "I guess we should be talking."

"Well, what _do_ you do when you're together?" Chuck asks, his smirk knowing and his eyes doing that smoldering thing they always do when he's amused.

"I have to go," Nate laughs. "I'll see you on Saturday."

"Goodbye, Nathaniel," Chuck says as they stand. He glances to the bag Nate's carrying, but doesn't ask any questions, and Nate doesn't offer any information.

----

Peyton is taking a nap on one of the like, 100 sofas in the house when there's a knock at the door. And alright, so she doesn't really need to be napping at 4:00 for no reason, but she was reading and she just felt kind of tired. As much as she had no reason to sleep, she kind of had no reason not to, either.

She's startled by the sound of the doorbell, and she knows only one person would be coming over. Well, two, but she knows Nate said he'd be by later. Or wast it call? Either way, she wants to see him, so if it's him at the door, she'll be pretty happy.

She can't stifle the yawn that comes just as she's opening the door, and he smiles when he sees her messy hair, bleary eyes and rumpled clothes. He's only seen her 'just got out of bed' look once, but he sure likes it.

"Hi," he says, smiling at her like he knows some big secret.

"What?" she asks as he walks past her, stopping to kiss her forehead. That's just not enough for her, and she grabs the front of his button down, pulling him towards her and pressing her lips to his. "Hi."

"You just woke up."

"Bad breath?" she asks, raising her hand to her mouth.

"No," he says, almost laughing. "The hair."

She mutters a curse when she looks at herself in the mirror and sees that her curls are matted and/or shooting out in different directions. She attempts to run her fingers through her hair to tame it, but it's no use, and when Nate snaps the hair elastic that's at her wrist, he laughs when she lets out a frustrated breath.

"Is that my present?" she asks with a child-like smile, pulling her hair up. "Will I like it? Is it cute? Did you spend hours and hours picking it out?"

"Um...yes?" He figures that answers all her questions, though he didn't spend hours. Just a half of one, which he still figures is pretty nice of him. Maybe. He hopes she doesn't hate it. "You were saying you hated that you would get to wear a dorky college sweatshirt next year," he says, handing over the bag. He smiles as she pulls the tissue out and drops it on the floor. "I figure you can wear one from my school."

"Nate...You got me a sweatshirt," she says dreamily, holding the navy fabric in her hands. "In 100 degree heat."

"It's for...not _now_," he says, rolling his eyes. She smiles and kisses him, and his hand finds her hip to hold her closer.

"I love it," she insists.

"Yeah?"

She nods and hands it back to him, and he looks at her in confusion. "You wear it for the summer. Then it'll smell like you."

"That's...creepy."

"It is not!" she cries, swatting his chest as they both laugh. "Every girl wants a sexy Nate sweatshirt, don't they?"

"Oh, come on," he scoffs.

"I hear things," she says, putting her hand on her hip as they walk to the living room. "You're like, the most eligible bachelor this summer or something."

"Not anymore." He pulls her into his side once they're sitting on the sofa, and she rests her head against his chest.

She can't wait for that sweatshirt to smell like him.

She doesn't say anything, because she doesn't know what to say. She just sits there with his arm around her and reaches for the remote, and she settles on some teen drama that's playing.

They watch it for a while before she starts laughing, then she pulls out her phone and starts texting someone.

"What?" he asks.

"Just...this whole show," she says. "It totally reminds me of my best friend and I. We were...It was kind of a two girls one guy situation."

"Oh _really_?" he asks in a low tone, though they both know he's just joking.

"Shut up," she laughs, elbowing his ribs gently. "It was like...I liked him, then she liked him, then he kind of liked both of us, and..." She notices the look on his face, and she can't read it. "What?"

"That sounds exactly like Blair and Serena," he says. "And...me."

"Wait. Serena? The gorgeously attractive she-could-be-a-model girl?" she asks, pulling away from him to meet his eyes.

"Sometimes we just call her S," he says, trying to lighten the mood. "But...yeah."

"Okay, I think you need to tell me the whole story," she says, taking a deep breath. She's not sure she's going to like this.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he says enticingly. She's almost put to ease by the way he seems to be kind of unaffected by the whole thing. He's not judging her, so she shouldn't judge him. "You want me to start at the beginning?"

She nods her head and takes another breath, and when he weaves his fingers together with hers, she takes a second to notice how good his tanned skin looks with hers. She doesn't think anyone's skin has ever looked so good next to hers, and it's a silly thing to think, but it makes her smile. A lot of things about Nate make her smile. Too many, probably, given how long they've known each other and the fact that they only have the summer.

But that's a worry for another day.

He starts from, well, not the beginning, but where he wants to start. He tells her all about how he and Blair came to be, and the pressures he was always under, from her and everyone else, and how he and Serena always had something beneath the surface. Peyton relates to that. He asks her how so, and she starts in on the story of she and Lucas and Brooke, and they're essentially telling their stories at the same time, each interjecting with similar situations or encounters, and by the end of it they're both relieved.

"I think our lives are more alike than we thought," he says, holding both her hands in his as they sit cross-legged, facing each other on the sofa.

"Well...you're like Lucas," she says, unable to keep a straight face.

"Well, you do seem kind of crazy about him," Nate says, and there's just a little bit of not jealousy, but concern in his voice.

"He's my _friend_," she says, emphasizing her point.

"Your friend who you loved."

"And how many of those do you have?" she asks, raising her brow as she smirks.

Okay, so she has him there.

"Right," he whispers.

"Look, Lucas...He was my first...love type thing," she says delicately, not wanting to make a big deal out of something that's a big deal. "And yeah, we're still friends. And...well, he saved my life a couple times."

"Jeez. Why are you slumming with me?" Nate asks, laughing at the situation. "Seriously. The guy's like, your hero."

"Whatever. He's also madly in love with my best friend," she says. She means it. She has no interest in Lucas anymore.

"So what about this saying his name in your sleep business?" he asks. "That...I mean...This Jake guy..."

"Maybe he was making it up to get out of marrying me," she says. It's a joke, but Nate can't find it in him to smile at it.

"Crazy," he says, shaking his head.

It's far too heavy a statement, given the amount of time they've known each other. They both know it. He doesn't want to marry her, or anyone else for that matter, and he said the word before really thinking.

"What about Serena?" Peyton asks, changing the subject swiftly. "I mean...sure, she's gone now, but..."

"Serena and I haven't been anything in a long time. That's...pretty much ancient history."

She believes him. And that's probably what's most surprising about this summer and this place and this boy. She trusts him. She doesn't question the things he says, and she doesn't know if that's because of her or because of him. Probably him, she thinks. There's an honesty about him and a sweetness in the things he says.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. "I'm starving." He tries to stand, but she doesn't let go of his hands, and when he sees the look in her eyes, he smiles at her. "What?"

"Can you kiss me or something?" she asks coyly.

"Or something?" His tone is low and she thinks she might tell him to forget about dinner.

"Nate..."

He kisses her before she can say anything more, and he pushes her back onto the sofa, pinning her beneath him. It's far too hot, even inside, to be getting so carried away, but when he kisses her neck and she lets out a sound from low in her throat, he doesn't care that it gets 100 degrees warmer. They've never gone much farther than this - first base, as he affectionately calls it - so he tenses just a little when she slips his hand beneath his shirt at his back. But it feels so damn good that he can't bother to mention anything.

His stomach rumbles, and she actually feels it against her body. They both laugh and he drops his head to her shoulder. "Sorry," he says.

"No. I...seduced you a little," she says, and she can't help but laugh at herself.

His eyes meet hers and he kisses her once and says, "feel encouraged to do that whenever you like, by the way." He laughs when she rolls her eyes and pushes at his chest. She rolls out from underneath him and stands to walk away. "Hey," he calls, before she can leave the room, "thanks. You know...for understanding."

She smiles at him, laying there on the sofa with his hair a mess (she may have run her hands through it a few times) and his shirt a little askew.

"You too," she says.

Alright, he thinks. Now he's got one part of his past out of the way. She winks at him before she leaves the room, and he stands once he's by himself. He wonders how much he needs to tell her. All he knows is that it's better for her to hear anything (maybe everything) from him than from someone else.

He'll get to the rest. He hears her call his name from the kitchen, and he thinks he'll just get to her first.


	6. Stay

They fall asleep on the beach one night. Of course, they didn't intend to. They were just laying on the sand, watching the stars and listening to the waves. Peyton was trying to tell Nate that the ocean sounded differently in the Hamptons than it did in North Carolina. He didn't buy it at first, but he was eventually almost convinced. Of course, it helped that she used kisses and a very sexy tone of voice to get her point across.

The last thing he remembers is her draping her leg over his and telling him she thought he was the nicest smelling boy she'd ever met. It was sweet and adorable and definitely sexy, and they were both sleeping moments later. He woke only once in the night, when she shifted next to him and moved a little closer.

She said his name in her sleep. He kissed her forehead gently and thought of waking her and getting her home, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He just watched the stars for a moment, pulled her close, and let himself fall back to sleep.

Peyton wakes in the morning with Nate sitting up beside her, petting and playing with a spirited golden retriever whose owner she can't yet see. She lays there for a minute just watching him, and the dog sits at Nate's side. He wraps his arm around the animal, petting him repeatedly and watching the surf. When he finally looks over at Peyton, he almost looks embarrassed that he's been caught acting so affectionately with this strange dog.

"'Morning," she says. She rolls onto her side and tucks her hand up under her cheek. "I'm going to have sand everywhere."

"Yeah, you are," he says.

She reaches over and runs her hand down the back of the dog that sits between them. She has no idea what time it is, but the sun looks like it's just come up, and the view is beautiful. It's a little weird that she's sitting there with a random dog, but it feels completely normal to be doing this with Nate. He looks like the kind of guy who should have a dog.

"What time is it?" she asks, finally sitting up. They both laugh when she groans and brushes the sand from her cheek and arm.

"Like 6:30." He smiles at her and reaches for one of her curls to tuck it behind her ear. It was sticking straight out. "Trust me, you didn't get the rude awakening I did. This guy was licking my face."

"Wow. That's...gross," she says.

As if on cue, a middle aged man in jeans and a white tee shirt walks up with a leash in his hand and a smile on his face. He's shaking his head as the dog trots towards him, and he hooks the leash back up to the dog's collar.

"Sorry about that," the man says, kneeling down to pet the dog. "Simon likes to make new friends."

"So do I," Nate says. He glances at Peyton and winks and she swears her heart stops.

"Thanks for hanging onto him," the man says, walking over to extend his arm to Nate, who stands and shakes his hand.

The man walks off with his dog, and Nate reaches down so Peyton can place her hands in his. He helps her up, then rests his hands on her waist as she stretches her arms over her head. Her shirt rides up a little and she arches her back, and she's just the sexiest thing he's ever seen. When she brings her arms down, she immediately loops them around his neck and leans against him, letting him hug her so she can breath in that salty air smell that's clinging to his shirt.

"I can't believe we fell asleep," she says.

"I'm still tired."

"I need a shower."

"Mmm. Shower first, then sleep," he insists. Her eyes are bleary as she yawns, and he slips his arm around her waist as they start to walk. "You okay?"

She looks out at the water, then up at Nate, and she notices rather quickly that they're the same colour. She says the only thing that comes to mind;

"Perfect."

----

They blow off a party they probably shouldn't. It's some ridiculous event where everyone's supposed to wear blue pants and white shirts. It's silly, really, just the anniversary of one man's boat's maiden voyage. Nate knows boats, and even he doesn't care. Truthfully, spending time with Peyton seems like a much better option.

They eat at his place. He orders pizza and opens a couple bottles of beer, and they sit in his living room watching A Lot Like Love, though neither of them is sure why. Nate never watches stuff like this, and Peyton insists she's never been an Ashton Kutcher fan. But she's crying just a little next to him as the story plays out, and he wraps his arm around her.

"Sorry. I'm being such a girl." She wipes her eye with the back of her index finger, and he thinks it might be the most adorable thing he's seen her do.

"You are a girl."

"Nate."

"I know," he whispers. He pulls her a little closer and kisses her temple. "It is kind of sad."

"Yeah," she agrees as she watches Ashton walk away from the girl with his guitar slung across his back. She curls towards Nate a little closer, and he kisses her hair.

"But I mean...he has to get the girl," he insists. "Right?"

"It's a romantic comedy. He'll get the girl," she says, laughing tearfully. "Would you ever do that to win a girl back?"

"What? Sing badly and get heckled by her neighbours?" he asks. Peyton nods and he laughs. "I think if I really wanted the girl, I'd probably do anything."

"Smart boy," she says softly.

He weaves his fingers together with hers, holding her hand against his thigh, and they watch the rest of the movie in mostly silence. She looks up at him when the couple on the screen finally gets it together, and he smiles at her. He kind of loves how wrapped up she in in this story. Even he has to admit that it was a good movie, with a sweet story and some poignant thoughts.

He switches on the news and gets caught up on the day, and Peyton thinks it's sexy (yes, sexy) that he keeps himself informed. He shakes his head at bad news, things in the world everyone wishes wouldn't happen, and he pulls her a little closer after one particularly sad item.

"You want to stay?" he asks. Save for that first night after that party, they have slept apart. Well, other than falling asleep on the beach, which he doesn't think counts.

"Yeah," she answers honestly. She considered a sarcastic response, but it didn't feel right. He's a sweet boy to even ask, not just kiss her until it's too late for her to leave. That was always Nathan Scott's trademark when they were dating.

"You sure?"

"Did I hesitate?" she asks, raising her brow. She stands and reaches for his hand, and he has to smile at the look in her eye. He knows they won't sleep together - he won't let it happen yet - but sleeping next to her sounds just about perfect.

He follows her to his bedroom after switching off the lights, and she bites her lip nervously as he pulls his tee shirt over his head.

"Are you still sure?" he asks, placing his hands jokingly over his chest to cover himself.

"Shut up!" she cries, walking forward and shoving him gently. "I don't have anything to sleep in."

"Good." She rolls her eyes and he cups her cheeks. "Relax just a little, alright?" he requests. She takes a deep breath and he kisses her. "I'll get you something to sleep in."

"Hey." She catches his wrist before he can walk away, and he turns back to her. "Or you could...not."

"Peyton, we don't..."

"Nate, it's hot out. I have on...something acceptable...under my jeans," she explains.

"I'm sure you do," he says, looking her up and down, and she looks up at him and bites her lip again.

She kisses him quickly and pushes him away from her and towards the bed, and he lays down and watches her. She pulls her tee shirt over her head as he lays back on the pillow with one arm behind his head. She doesn't seem nervous anymore, not with the way she's adjusting her thin black tank top and unbuttoning her jeans.

"What?" she asks, putting one hand on her hip once she's got her fly undone.

"You're stripping. That's what," he says like it's just so obvious.

"I'm not..." She stops when he grins at her in amusement, and looks down at herself. "Okay, so I kind of am." They both laugh and she turns around and pushes her jeans down. "Stop staring."

"Not a chance."

She can't see him, but he's got one brow raised as she bends down to pull her jeans off her legs. He really has no idea how in the world she's so damn gorgeous. Perfect body and perfect...everything. She's insane if she thinks he'll stop staring. She's standing there in a pair of black boy cut underwear and her black tank top, and she pulls her hair up, looking around for an elastic or something before she remembers she's in a boy's room. She lets her hair fall around her and he shakes his head.

"What?" she asks again, sighing dramatically.

"Come here," he tells her.

Of course, she can't say no. She walks over to him, toying with the bottom of her top, and he reaches for her hand. She lays down next to him and he immediately pulls her into his arms. The light is still on, and neither of them reaches over to turn it off.

"You have this freckle," he says, tracing his index finger over the spot just at the inside of her elbow.

"Um. Yeah?" She wonders if he's going to finish that thought, or if that's all there is to it.

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"It's just a freckle."

"But...no one else has one there," he explains. She feels like she's melting into a pool laying there next to him. She thinks he says the most perfectly simple things, and she loves it.

He leans over her a little bit to reach for the light, and she wraps her arm around him, pulling him against her after the room is dark. She kisses him and he rests his weight against her just a little bit, and she lets out a sound from low in her throat. He pulls away before she really wants him to.

"You know," he says, once she's laying against him again, "after everything that's happened, it's really hard for me to just...live in the moment."

"Me too," she whispers, draping her leg over his a little more.

"It's easy with you."

"Yeah."

They fall asleep together in his bed for the first time, and when they wake up in the morning, they're all tangled together, just like she'd secretly hoped they would be. She tells him she had a really weird dream that some woman stole her car, and he tells her he never remembers his dreams. They stay in his bed for most of the day, the covers kicked off as they smile and tell each other stories, and they take turns running downstairs for food when they get hungry. That's pretty much a perfect summer day, if you ask her.

----

They're coerced into brunch at Blair's house, though it doesn't really take much convincing, and they both know Blair would stop at nothing to get them there. Nate had stayed over at Peyton's the night before, though neither of his friends know that (he intended to keep it that way, lest he hear Chuck's crude remarks and endure Blair's incessant questioning). He's told her it's a good thing she likes sleeping next to him, because he doesn't intend on sleeping without her for the rest of the summer. She didn't argue.

"You know, it's just brunch," Nate says, laying on the bed as he watches Peyton try to choose an outfit.

"It's brunch with _Blair_. And her fashion designer mother," Peyton says, putting her hand on her hip and glaring at him. "Don't rush me. We have an hour."

"Okay, but this is the third dress you've tried."

"Guys have it so easy!" she calls out to him from the closet. "Seriously. Pants, button down shirt, done."

"We're lucky that way," he says with a laugh.

"Which one?" she asks, stepping into the room again. She's holding up a plum coloured shirt dress in one hand, and a retro-looking black dress in the other. "Well?"

"Purple."

"Really?" she asks, holding it up to herself.

"Yes."

"Are you just saying that so I'll get ready faster?" she asks, smiling at him. He shrugs his shoulders, and she laughs. She moves over to sit next to him on her bed, and she runs her hand through his hair. "Sorry I'm taking so long."

"Well, you just messed up my hair, so now I have to fix it, which could take a while," he says. There's a grin on her face and something devious in her eyes and he glares at her. "You _meant_ to do that."

"It was looking a little Zac Efron. I did you a favour," she says, getting up before he can grab her and make her take it back, but he's right behind her already. She squeals a little bit when he hooks his arm around her waist from behind and pulls her flush against him. "Nate!"

"I won't let go until you say you were joking," he insists. They both know she was. He just likes having her body all pressed against his.

"We may never make it to brunch," she says, her voice low and seductive. He takes a deep breath, and she feels him exhale against her neck. "Nate..."

"Sorry," he says, releasing her.

If he's being honest, the tension between them is only growing the more they share a bed and the more they kiss and the more they don't do (much of) anything else. He really doesn't want to rush anything - they haven't even talked about 'what they are' - and he won't pressure her, but he can tell that maybe she's getting as frustrated as he is. Perhaps frustrated isn't the best word. All he knows is that he's been the one stopping things a couple times, and she's been the one stopping things a couple times, and he thinks they're getting closer to not stopping at all.

Moments like these prove that.

He's still in her bathroom working on his hair when she walks in with that purple dress on, and he's immediately distracted.

"Good choice," she says, smoothing out the material as she looks at herself in the mirror.

"I'm happy with it," he tells her.

She pushes her way in front of him and reaches for her lip gloss, and he kind of loves the way she's standing there putting the finishing touches on her look while he puts the finishing touches on his. She's just a little shorter than him, and he can smell her shampoo. He didn't notice before, but the back of this dress is cut in a V to the middle of her back. She's not wearing a bra. She notices him looking, and she elbows him gently in the ribs. He laughs before resting his hand on her hip and leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Okay. I'm ready," she tells him, toying with a few rogue curls.

"You sure? You don't want to change into 15 other dresses before coming back to this one?" he teases.

"You're a jerk," she says, just before she kisses him. She knows the words don't mean anything, and he laughs when she pulls away from him.

"Come on. We'll go early." He grabs her hand and she slips her feet into her shoes before they leave her room. He can tell she's nervous, and while he thinks it's adorable, she really has no reason to be. "You know Chuck and Blair are like, your biggest fans, right?"

"Stop it," she says, rolling her eyes.

"And Eleanor...well, she'll probably be glaring at me, so there's a good chance she'll leave you alone," he says jokingly. "Cyrus kind of loves everyone. And he likes to hug."

"I like to hug," she says, smiling up at him.

"Oh yeah? What's a guy got to do to get one of those?"

"Something like...reassure me that the people I'm about to meet aren't going to hate me," she says. He laughs and she pulls him towards her, slipping her arms around his shoulders as he holds her. She's not sure she's ever met anyone who hugs her like Nate does. It's the most reassuring thing he's done. "Thank you."

"No one's going to hate you. I don't know how they could," he says.

She kinks her brow and pulls away from him. "You keep talking like that, you'll be getting more than a hug."

He's still standing in the same place, swallowing the suggestion he wants to make (that they skip brunch altogether) while she walks out of the room and starts down the hall. He adjusts his tie and follows behind her when he hears her call his name. He has a feeling this brunch is going to be difficult to get through, mostly because she'll be sitting next to him in that dress.

From the moment they walk through the door, Eleanor adores Peyton. The women talk about their clothes, and Eleanor shares bits and pieces of the winter line she's already working on, and Peyton mentions that her best friend is a budding fashion designer. They sip mimosas and laugh together and steal the attention of the men in the room, though that's really nothing new.

Chuck and Cyrus talk business until Eleanor insists they change the subject, and as they all sit down to eat, Nate winks at Peyton while he pulls her chair out for her. She's a pro, he decides. She laughs at all the right times, at jokes that aren't funny, but they'd be rude not to laugh at. Chuck shoots Nate a look - with that raised brow that seems to be a permanent fixture - when Peyton says something particularly clever, and Nate can only smile back. He's very well aware that the girl is more than holding her own.

"I think I did okay," she says once they're on their way back to his place. He's driving the car she's got for the summer, and he looks over at her incredulously. "What?"

"Okay? Peyton, I think they wanted to adopt you," he says with a laugh.

"They're nice," she says softly. He takes her hand on his and holds it against his thigh as they drive, and she smiles. Nate was so unexpected, so out of the blue, and now she can't imagine being here this summer without him.

It's that reason alone that has her kissing him as soon as they're inside his house. He certainly doesn't - can't, won't - complain. He lets her push his jacket off his shoulders as they clumsily make their way to his bedroom. For all the talking they've done since they met, they haven't talked about this, and it's clear they won't talk about it now. He still doesn't know if they'll sleep together, or if they should yet, but it's quite obvious that they're going past first and second.

He's laying back on his bed with her on top of him, and she's just undone the last button of his shirt when her cell rings. He looks at her as if he's asking if she's going to get it, and he can tell she's battling it.

"Take it," he says. She bites her lip and scrunches her nose adorably, and he sits up to kiss her before she gets off him and reaches for her phone.

"It's Lucas," she tells him, though she's really not sure why. He isn't sure why either. "Hello?"

Nate isn't thrilled. He's patient, no matter how much he loves kissing her, and how much he was really enjoying the way things were progressing. He's alright with her taking a call. Not so much when it's her ex-boyfriend. Ex-something. Whatever.

"What do you mean, you broke up?" she asks. Her brow is furrowed in concern, and Nate kind of thinks it's adorable how much she cares about her best friend's relationship. "Well, that's not breaking up, Lucas. She's just pissed at you for being an idiot...Um, _yeah_, it's your fault...Because!...Yes, that's my argument...You have to go apologize."

She mouths an apology to Nate, and he nods, and he thinks he really does forgive her when she idly runs her hand through his hair as she talks.

"Just go over there," she insists. "I promise it'll work out." Her nails scratch his scalp a little bit in a way she knows he loves, and he can't stifle the little moan he lets out. "What? No...Just...No one." Nate turns to look at her, and she sees a flash of hurt in his eyes, and she wants to take it all back. "It's Nate. My...boy."

She doesn't really hear what Lucas says after that, because she's thinking back to weeks ago, when she didn't even know his name but she'd call him that, just for something to call him. She had no idea they'd get to this point, where she was sitting on his bed and he was laying there with his shirt unbuttoned, and her lips were swollen from kissing him.

"Yeah, he's really great," she says. "But will you please go get your really great girl? Because if you break her heart, I'll have to come to Tree Hill and kick your ass."

She hangs up after a few more words, and when she looks at Nate, he's got a strange expression on his face.

"What?" she asks.

"I'm your boy?"

"I didn't know what to call you."

"Boy, though?" he asks incredulously, grinning up at her. "I mean..._boy_?"

"Well, what would you rather I call you?" Her brow is raised, and he knows that if he lets her, she'll rattle off some highly inappropriate options.

"How about," he starts, pausing to contemplate dramatically, "your boy_friend_?"

"I guess I wouldn't want to give you a complex," she says as he tugs her wrist so she lays next to him.

"How would you feel if I called you my _girl_?" He asks it as if it's the worst thing in the world, but she's smiling, and any doubt he has is erased.

He's so losing this argument.

"Pretty good actually."

"I guess it does sound alright."

"Maybe better than alright," she says right before she kisses him.

Things aren't quite as frantic and frenzied as they were before they were interrupted, but that's probably a good thing. They were forced to have that conversation that they both secretly probably wanted to have, and Nate definitely feels better, having gotten that out of the way. And he likes being her boyfriend.

It's him on top of her then, though they don't lose any more of their clothing, and they spend most of the early afternoon kissing lazily and talking and making each other laugh. They stay that way until Peyton insists she needs to eat something.

He's almost certain she just needs to distance herself from him a bit so she doesn't itch to take things further. The way she rolls her eyes when he raises his brow at her lets him know that maybe he's right.


	7. I Need You

She thinks that of the entire house she's got to lounge in and enjoy, the backyard is her favourite place. It's beautifully landscaped with hedges all around, a great pool, hot tub (though she doesn't dare use the hot tub in such heat), stone patio and great lounge furniture. It's well-lit at night, and her favourite thing to do at dusk is head out there with a cold beer or glass of iced tea and sit and draw.

Since Nate came along, she's been doing a little less of it, though she won't complain. This day, however, he'd gotten a call from Chuck, begging him to come to the city to watch some tennis match he'd gotten great seats for. Blair was in France, having left the day after the brunch to spend a couple weeks with her father. A day in the city watching Federer actually sounded pretty good, so he'd headed out and told Peyton he'd be back later.

She was actually almost happy, though she didn't tell him as much, to have the whole day to herself, just to hang out.

So she's laying on her stomach on one of those lounge chairs with just her tank top and shorts on, her iPod on as she sketches in the notebook she feels she's neglected. The lighting is perfect, and she's got a good playlist on, and she feels like she's living in a perfect moment.

And then someone scares the hell out of her.

She feels someone's hand skimming up the back of her leg, and she turns over so quickly that she almost falls off her chair.

"Dammit, Nate!" she cries, hitting his arm as he sits next to her. "You scared me!"

"Sorry," he says, though he's laughing and she can tell he's not really sorry at all.

"I didn't think you'd be back till later."

"We skipped dinner," he explains. "Chuck was going to meet Lily and Erik."

"Lily and Erik?"

"His...step-mom and step-brother," he says. But he doesn't want to leave out details. "Serena's mom and brother."

"Oh! Right," she says. She'd forgotten Chuck and Serena were 'related'. "So you had fun?"

"Yeah. You?" he asks. He looks at the page next to them, and she snatches it away when she sees that he had noticed it. "What's that?"

"Nothing. It's...nothing."

"Peyton, it's not nothing. If it was nothing, you'd just show me," he says. "Come on."

"It's...just...some sketches," she says, handing over the pad.

She's told him she likes to draw, but he's never asked to see anything she's done, and she wasn't sure if that's because he didn't know she had any with her, or because he just wasn't sure she'd show him. Either way, she's biting her lip as she watches him examine the page.

"This is...you did this?" he asks needlessly. She nods gently, nervously, and he shakes his head. "This is amazing."

It's nothing really special; just the beach with waves rolling in, the sun coming up over the ocean. She's happy he's seeing it before she got a chance to draw the two of them there, waking up that morning after falling asleep there.

"What else have you done?" he asks, as though he's asking her permission to flip through the book. She smiles at him, and he smiles back and turns back one page. "You drew Chuck and Blair?" He's looking at the page with the couple there, looking at each other lovingly. "This is really good, Peyton."

"I'll probably need a signed release to ever show it to anyone," she jokes. "But...thanks."

She's always been a little more modest about her art than maybe she needs to be.

He keeps flipping through the book, looking at the things she's sketched. They go back to sometime in the middle of her senior year. A menacing bulldog. She and her best friend on the steps of her house, wrapped in blankets. A championship basketball game. A boy she tells him is Nathan, apologizing for something two years too late. A graduation party. An old basketball court covered in spray-painted signatures.

"This is what you should be doing," he tells her seriously. "You should go to art school."

"You're being nice," she says with a laugh, taking the sketchbook back from him. "I'm not that good."

"Yes," he insists, placing his hand on her cheek. "You are." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but he leans over and kisses her, just because he wants to. "Have you drawn me?"

His tone is so sexy that she's almost dropping the damn book and grabbing onto him. She has no idea how they haven't slept together yet. With him sitting there in his white Lacoste polo, asking her such a personal question, she thinks she doesn't want to wait anymore.

"No."

"Liar. You have too."

"I have not!" she says laughingly, shoving him a little.

"How come?"

"Because..." She bows her head and toys with the pencil in her hand. "Because you're too important to mess up."

His heart starts beating a little harder, and he kisses her again because he has to after something so sweet, so amazing, that she's said. She really believes it, he can tell, and he knows what she's saying. It's a beautiful thing, a gorgeous sentiment.

"Draw me now," he requests, smiling at her in a way that makes her instantly want to say yes.

"Nate..."

"Come on. I've seen what you do." He gestures to the book in her hand and she looks at him disbelievingly. "You couldn't mess up if you tried."

"I can't just draw on command," she argues.

"I bet you can."

Oh, he's good. He's appealing to her pride; her stubborn side. She glares at him, then sighs dramatically and sits up so she's facing him. "Come on," she says, standing and reaching for his hand.

"Where are we going?"

"Beach," is all she says.

He doesn't question anything more. They get in her car - she drives, though he pouts a little bit (jokingly) about it - and they end up at the beach just as the sun starts going down. He doesn't know why she's brought him here, but he sits on the sand without being prompted, and she sits facing his profile. They're quiet as she starts to draw, and she finds it almost shockingly easy to sketch him. The fact that he's so easy to stare at probably helps.

But she realizes that she's never really done this. She's never had anyone just sit there and let her draw them. She loves that he's her first. He wiggles his brows when she tells him so, and he calls her adorable when she blushes. He tells her all about his day, and he has her laughing when he describes Chuck's outfit. It's ridiculous, of course, but so very Chuck that she can picture him wearing it and making it look amazing.

"I thought you'd be yelling at me to sit still or something," he says. She's sitting directly in front of him now, and she smiles and shakes her head.

"That's not how I work."

"I can see that."

He watches as she bites her bottom lip in concentration and smudges her pencil with the tips of her fingers. She wipes her hand hand on her shorts, leaving dark little marks on the denim that he can tell she doesn't really care about. There's something, or maybe a lot of things, really sexy about watching her draw. He can tell she loves it, that it's a passion of hers, and he definitely loves that she's sharing it with him.

"Okay," she says after a while. "I'm done." She holds the page to her chest and looks genuinely nervous, making him roll his eyes at her.

"Come on. Let me see." She shakes her head and he's ready for a fight. "Peyton."

"No!"

"Is it bad? Am I hideous?" he asks teasingly.

"Shut up. I'm not going to feed your ego and tell you that you're sexy."

"You just did, didn't you?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "Don't make me come over there."

"You wouldn't!" she cries, getting up onto her knees, then standing. He's right behind her, though, and coming at her. "No!"

"Peyton," he says, walking calmly towards her as she backs away from him. "Just show me. Even if it's bad, I'll be nice."

"You think it's going to be bad!?"

"No!" He lets out a huff and rushes towards her, wrapping her up in his arms before she can get away. She's pulled tight against him and he looks into her eyes as she lets her free hand fall to his chest. "I know it won't be bad."

"Be nice," she says, though she knows he wouldn't be anything but. She hands him the book and waits for his reaction.

He smiles at the image of himself, sitting on the beach, his knees bent and his arms draped loosely around them. He's got a smooth little stone in his right hand, held loosely between his forefinger and his thumb, no doubt an homage to the day he tried to teach her how to skip stones. She's got every detail of his face right, and he's wearing a far-off expression.

"Peyton, this is..." He shakes his head as he looks at her. "Wow."

"You're thinking of me, by the way," she says teasingly, her eyes flicking down towards the book and the look on his face captured on the page.

"I was."

He holds her a little closer, the book now pressed against her back as he holds it in his hand. He kisses her, and it feels even better than before. More...something. He can't explain it. He'd love to be able to.

He tries to pull away, but she won't let him. She kisses him again and he lets her because he'd be crazy not to. "Let's go back to my place," she says. Their eyes meet as he nods his head, and she knows exactly what she's suggesting, and she knows exactly what he's agreeing to.

He smiles when she tosses her keys towards him, and she notices that he's still the one holding her sketchbook.

"You should keep it," she says, slipping her arm around his waist as they walk.

"No. I can't."

"I want you to have it," she tells him. He looks at her and smiles, and she can almost feel her heart stop. "Something to remember me by."

"I don't think I'll need a drawing," he says, pulling the car door open for her.

It's the first time they've even come close to acknowledging that they're on a timeline. Other than a couple little conversations when they first started this thing between then, they haven't mentioned the fact that in about six weeks, she'll be leaving. And now, with her slipping her hand into his as he drives, it's really the last thing either of them wants to think about.

She toys with the hair at the back of his neck, just like he loves her to do, and he has to tell her to stop. He's smiling when he does it, and she has to bite her tongue, knowing that whatever innuendo she could say is better left unsaid. This is a big moment, the kind that she doesn't really remember ever happening. She's only been with two boys, and neither of those situations were like this one, though she's not entirely sure why.

She thought she loved them both, though now she sees that she never loved Nathan, and that she never loved Jake the way she thought she did. She doesn't love Nate either, but she thinks that, if given a chance, she really could.

Which is exactly why she takes his hand as soon as they're inside the door. She's not sure they'll really get their chance, and she doesn't want to have regrets. Sleeping with Nate certainly won't be one. She thinks she'd never forgive herself if she didn't do it. She promised herself after she met him that she'd let herself just live in the moment with him.

And in this moment, she wants him. Badly.

They walk to her bedroom, and neither says a word. He knows what's going to happen, and the fact that she's not saying anything actually puts him at ease a little bit. He knows she's not the kind of girl who needs to have three-hour-long conversations about everything that happens between them. She's secure and confident and she knows what she wants. He thinks that may be the sexiest thing about a girl. It's certainly sexy with this one.

She's left a little breathless by the way his blue eyes are looking into hers as he stands in front of her in her bedroom. He lets his hands fall to her hips, where she thinks no one's hands have ever felt so natural sitting there, and she can't help but smile at him. He doesn't kiss her, and she really wants him to. He just walks her backwards towards the bed, hooking his arm around her waist to lay her down gently, and he brushes the hair from her face when he's laying on top of her.

"Nate," she whispers when he still isn't kissing her.

All she has to say is his name, and he's got his lips on hers. He doesn't need anymore prompting than that.

She doesn't think anyone's ever treated her like Nate does. She doesn't know how he accomplishes being sexy, sweet, caring, considerate and...well, a whole lot of other things, all at the same time. She's glad he is, though. He delicately removes her clothes and smiles at her just a little bit when she pulls his shirt over his head. She takes a breath when she runs her hands down his chest and stomach, then she wraps her arms around him again, pulling him tight against her.

There are a million things that she could say. A thousand words about him, or his body, or how much she likes him, or...anything. But she doesn't say a word. She just kisses him.

Not that she's the most experienced girl in the world, but she knows enough to know that it's never been like this with anyone before. She smiles when he tells her the same thing. They're laying together, her resting against his side with just the thin sheet covering them, and she closes her eyes in almost relief.

"This summer," she says, almost in reverence.

"What?" he asks, his hand trailing up and down her arm.

"It's not what I thought it'd be."

"It's better though, right?" He's pretty sure he knows the answer. He still wants to hear her say it.

"Now that you finally gave it up," she says teasingly.

"I...fina...what?" he stutters.

"Joking," she whispers, moving a little closer and draping her leg over his a bit more. He tips her chin up with his index finger and kisses her before she can say anything else. "What's this?"

"Making up for lost time?" he suggests boyishly, pulling her on top of him.

"Mmm." She leans down and presses her lips to his. "Good idea."

----

Nate wakes up alone in Peyton's bed, with the sun pouring through the windows. It's a beautiful day. He's not sure where his beautiful girl is. There's a phone ringing next to his ear, and he blindly and clumsily reaches for the cell off the bedside table and flips it open.

"Hello?" he mumbles sleepily.

"Well, _hello_, boy in Peyton's bed," Brooke says, smiling through the line.

"Um...hi." He pulls the phone away from his ear and confirms that it's not his own.

"Nate, I assume?"

"That'd be me," he says. Peyton steps out of the bathroom wearing only a white fluffy towel and her hair dripping wet, and he eyes her, forgetting he's on the phone. Her phone. "Damn, you're sexy."

"What?" Brooke says, laughing at his sleepy voice.

"Oh! No! Not...not you. Well...maybe," he stammers, closing his eyes when Peyton grins at him. She's enjoying this far too much, he decides. "Hang on." He pulls the phone away again and extends his arm to hand it to Peyton. "It's for you."

"It's my phone," she laughs.

"I know, but...I was...Whatever." He's pouting when he lays back against the pillows again, and she sits next to him. She's totally distracted by the fact that he's shirtless - and probably still bottomless - and covered by only a sheet. "What?"

"Nothing!" she answers quickly. She rolls her eyes when he smiles at her knowingly, then she presses the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Decided to come up for air long enough to talk to your best friend?"

"Hi, Brooke," Peyton says. Nate blushes and Peyton cups his cheek with her hand. "What's up?"

"Don't change the subject! Details please!" Brooke pleads.

"No."

"Oh come on, Peyton!" Brooke whines. "He's was there! You have nothing to hide."

Nate slips his hand beneath the towel covering her thigh, and she tries to swat it away, but it doesn't work. "Stop it!"

"I will not!" Brooke says indignantly.

"No. Not..." Nate kisses the outside of Peyton's wrist, making his way up her arm, and she can't tell him to stop.

"Oh...Okay. Wow. I feel like I'm hearing things I shouldn't." Brooke is practically giddy, but Peyton barely notices. Nate sits up and kisses her neck, wordlessly begging her to pay attention to him.

Truthfully, she can't help but.

Peyton doesn't even say goodbye as she closes her phone and lets it fall to the floor. Nate has tugged the front of the towel, and when his mouth finds her collar bone, she stops feeling bad about hanging up on her friend. She may pay for that later, but what she's getting now is well worth it.


	8. In Over My Head

They go to the city for a weekend at the beginning of August. The Millers have family coming in from out of town, and Peyton was set to go to New York anyway to stay at their 5th Avenue apartment while the guests were using the Hamptons house. She finds herself laughing again, for the umpteenth time, over how ridiculous it is that this is her summer.

"So, I have an idea," she announces as she packs, and Nate lays on her bed watching her gather her things.

"What's that?"

"Come with me," she says simply.

"_Finally_," he says dramatically. Her jaw drops and he smiles at her. "I've been waiting for you to ask."

"Why didn't you just say you wanted to come?"

"I didn't want to just invite myself," he says, shrugging one shoulder. "I like to know I'm wanted."

She smiles at him and walks over to the bed, settling herself on top of him so she's got her knees on either side of his hips. "Oh, you're wanted."

"You promise?" She nods her head and bites her lip. "Want to prove it?"

"No!" she says. She leans down and kisses him quickly, and he laughs at how fast she's off him and running into her bathroom.

"What's with you?" he asks, smiling at her as she steps back inside.

"I'm excited. It's like a vacation," she says. She shrugs one shoulder and he shakes his head.

"A vacation from your vacation," he states.

"Hey. I've had a hard summer," she jokes. "I've had to entertain this guy I met. And let me tell you, he demands a lot of my attention."

"Well, you don't have to give it to him."

"Maybe." She zips her bag and drops it on the floor, and he stands and rests his hands on her hips. "But I want to."

----

They drop their things at his mom's place and he gives her a short tour. The place is big and well-decorated and definitely not what she's used to. Even in the Scott and Davis households, she always felt like she somehow belonged there. In Nate's, the house where he grew up, she feels like a girl from the south in New York for a while.

She actually laughs to herself when she realizes that's exactly what she is.

"What?" he asks, smiling simply because she's laughing.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"Nothing!" she insists. They're standing in the sitting room of his house, and he's got his arms crossed.

"I'll make you talk," he says threateningly.

He steps towards her, and she shakes her head, and when he pulls her into his arms, his body pressed all up against hers. She completely forgets what it was she was thinking. She kisses him to keep him from asking again.

"Show me the city, Nate Archibald," she says, looking at him with a perfect little smile on her face.

"Why do you always say peoples' full names?" he asks as they head to the front door again.

"What?"

"You always say peoples' first and last names."

"Oh." She waits on the front steps as he locks the door behind them. "I guess it's a Tree Hill thing."

"Well, Peyton Sawyer," he says, draping his arm around her shoulder as they walk down the steps and onto the sidewalk. "Let me show you all my favourite things about this city."

And he does. His favourite places for both hot and iced coffee. His favourite restaurant. The little bar halfway between he and Chuck's places that never bothered to card them, no matter what age they looked. The spot in Central Park where he could sit and no one would ever find him. He shows her where he went to school and some of the fancy hotels where he's been to countless events.

They end up in back in Central Park after getting hot dogs from his favourite street vendor and frozen yogurt from the place all the Constance girls always get theirs.

She's sitting next to him, her legs draped over his lap as she finishes her mostly-melted treat, and he can't help but stare at her a little bit. She's wearing a pair of aviator glasses that he knows none of the girls he knows would ever wear. He loves that. Her hair has been driving her crazy all day, and so she bought a little silver clip from a street vendor, and she's got it pulled up. There's a thin layer of sweat on her neck that he's finding undeniably sexy. Her jeans have those holes in the knees and one near the pocket showing her skin at her hip, and she's got just a purple bra on underneath her loose black tank top.

"What?" she asks with her brow furrowed when she notices he's staring.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. What?"

"You just look really good right now," he says. She smiles and shakes her head. He always tries to play it off as nothing. Every time he's being sweet, it's like he doesn't _want_ to be sweet or something. It's sexy that way, she decides.

She's about to tell him all that when his phone rings. He rolls his eyes - he always says he just hates being interrupted when he's with her - but pulls his cell out of his pocket to see Chuck's name flash across the screen.

"Hey Chuck," he answers. "Yeah, we're here...I came with her...Yeah, it's good." He shoots Peyton a wink that makes her heart flutter. "Really? Okay...Yeah, next weekend's good...We'll clear our schedules."

Peyton doesn't miss that he keeps saying things like 'we' and 'us'. She likes it. She doesn't really remember the last time a guy used those words with her.

"Blair's having a party next weekend," Nate announces.

"Because there aren't enough already?" Peyton asks, making him laugh. "That should be fun. What kind of party?"

"Dressy."

"Dressy for Blair? Or dressy for the rest of the world?" She takes another spoonful of her yogurt, but some dribbles down her chin. Smooth, she thinks. Nate leans over and kisses it away and she doesn't feel so bad anymore.

"Mmm. It's so much better that way," he says, and they both laugh at how cheesy he's being. "And dressy for Blair."

"Okay then." She stands from her place and he looks at her in confusion. "I need to shop. You can pick out a dress for me."

He definitely likes the way that sounds. He places his hand in her outstretched one, but instead of letting her help him up, he pulls her back down on top of him, with her squealing his name. He kisses her as their bodies align, and _he loves this summer_.

She almost freaks out and runs away when she realizes that she might be in over her head. Like falling. For Nate. For her summer fling. Fuck.

"Come on," she says, getting up once again.

She doesn't give him her hand this time, but when he stands up and she's already walking away, he wraps his arm around her waist. And she lets herself think that even if she were falling, maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

And she really does like New York...

----

The dress she falls in love with is a deep burgundy. It's Herve Léger. She's never even thought of spending so much on a single item of clothing before in her life. She's never looked as good in a single item of clothing, either. Nate is on the phone when she's in the fitting room, and she hears him saying thank you before he hangs up.

"What?" she asks, though she's still admiring herself in the mirror. She notices he's still admiring her, too.

"I called in a favour," he states.

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning the dress is yours."

"What?!"

"Chuck knows someone in the marketing department. They owed him from a thing he hosted at his club," he says with a shrug. "It's all yours."

"Nate, I can't let you do that." She shakes her head at him and he's still smiling. She doesn't necessarily love that he feels like he has to help her out. She doesn't know if that's because she just never likes help, or because she's so obviously out-classed by everyone she's met this summer.

But part of her is wondering if, even if she had money to burn, he would have done the same thing. Maybe he's just that kind of guy.

"It's done," he insists, walking towards her and resting his hands on her hips. "And besides, I couldn't let you leave here without this dress."

"Oh?"

"It's...yeah. It's _yours_." He says it differently that time, like she doesn't just own it, but like it was made for her or something.

"Thank you, Nate," she says quietly. "You really didn't have to do that."

"It's nothing. I promise," he tells her. "As long as you promise me here and now that it won't stay on long after the party."

There's a sparkle in his eye - the same look he always gets when he's being flirty - and she smiles at him and kisses him quickly. "I think that's a safe bet."

----

Peyton and Nate spend most of their time in the city sitting lazily in Central Park, or in his bed. Those are pretty much the only places they find themselves. The afternoon they spend in the park, Peyton reads a screenplay Blair recommended while Nate sleeps. His head is resting on her stomach, and every so often, he'll wake up and look over at her. She'll lower her book and he'll smile at her and then close his eyes again. He tells her he's having fun just doing nothing with her.

The time they spend in his bed, well, that's a whole other kind of fun.

They get back to the Hamptons and laugh that their weekend in New York City left them more relaxed than they've been all summer long.

Chuck is still around until the next evening, having taken his Monday off so he could have a long weekend. He invited Nate and Peyton over, and when they arrive, Blair is on the phone, telling someone it's 'completely unacceptable' that something or another is going on. Nate smirks and shakes his head, and Peyton just looks confused.

"Ugh!" Blair growls in frustration, slamming her phone down onto the table. "My DJ canceled!"

"For?" Peyton asks.

"The party!"

"Right," Peyton says. "What do you need a DJ for?"

"Um. _The party_," Blair repeats. Both men exchange a glance, wondering which girl will win this fight.

"No, I know, but...Do you really need one? Seems kind of unnecessary." Peyton shrugs her shoulder and tosses a piece of cheese into her mouth from the platter that's on the counter in the kitchen.

"So everyone's just supposed to..._talk_ all night?" Blair asks incredulously. Nate laughs - that actually sounds like not a bad idea for one of these parties - and she shoots him a look that has him turning back to Chuck and pretending he isn't at least a little scared of her.

"Okay listen, you have an iPod, right?" Peyton asks, and Blair nods. "We can just make a playlist. I can hook it up to the sound system here, and it'll be just like having a DJ."

"Really?" Blair asks. "You can do that?"

"Sure," Peyton says with a shrug. "It's easy."

Blair's face lights up in relief and excitement, and she turns to Nate. "_She_ is a _keeper_."

There is a big part of Nate that is thinking the exact same thing.

----

She's getting used to these parties. She actually enjoys getting ready, listening to the perfect music as she does her makeup and slips into whatever clothes she's wearing for the evening. This night is a little more special. For one, it's Blair's party, and the girl is so excited that it's impossible for everyone else not to be excited too. And then there's the simple fact that she gets to wear this amazing dress. She loves this dress.

And she really has to admit, walking into these parties with Nate at her side makes her feel a lot more at ease about going to them at all.

She's just fastening her strappy heels when Nate walks into the house - without knocking, as usual - and she takes one last look in the mirror as she shouts that she'll be down in a minute.

He doesn't really believe her. She's a girl, and in his experience, girls always say 'a minute', and then take like, a half hour. So he's surprised when she walks down the stairs. The shock doesn't last long, then all he's feeling is attraction and appreciation and something in his heart that he's definitely afraid to admit.

She's curled her hair a little bit more, and it's pulled back from her face and held in place with a thin black headband. Her makeup is subtle and perfect. And the dress? Even though he's seen it before, he _still_ doesn't have the words.

"You look...so gorgeous," he says when she's standing in front of him. He can't help it, and he rests his hands on her hips, pulling her closer.

"So do you," she says. She definitely likes the casual way he wears his navy blue suit. He's just got a white button down underneath, with no tie and the top couple buttons undone. It's a good look, she decides.

He shakes his head and kisses her, because he feels like he has to. He might not get a chance to while they're at this party, and he can't wait until later when they're at his place.

"Can't we just stay here?" he asks.

"No. Blair would kill us."

He knows she's right. He kisses her again anyway. They'll make it to the party, they just might be a few minutes late.

----

She's become kind of well known in this circle of 'Hamptonites', and Nate takes every chance he can to make fun of her for it. She knows people by name, and she knows well enough to ask about kids or grandkids who aren't at the party. She knows to ask how fundraisers in the city went, and to fawn over dresses and accept compliments.

Nate goes off in search of drinks, leaving Peyton with his eccentric neighbour, Ellen, to talk about South Carolina, where she always forgets Peyton _isn't_ from.

"Peyton," Blair's voice, dripping with hostess' welcome, calls. "Hello."

"Blair, everything looks great," Peyton insists, air kissing Blair's cheeks as both girls try not to laugh. They never do this. But, well, appearances are everything.

"Excuse us," Blair tells Ellen politely. The woman waves them off sweetly, and Blair links her arm through Peyton's as they walk away. "Love your dress, though I'm mad that Chuck didn't get me one."

"I'm sure he would if you asked," Peyton says, and they both laugh because it's definitely true; there's nothing that boy won't do for her.

"And I've gotten three compliments on the music already."

"That's great!" Peyton says, a little too enthusiastically. Blair laughs and looks at Peyton with her brow knit. "Sorry. I just...like influencing peoples' taste."

"Whatever. Let's get you a drink," Blair says. Peyton shakes her head, and Nate is already walking towards her with a very odd-looking violet coloured cocktail in his hand.

"What is _that_?" Peyton asks, taking the drink from her boyfriend.

"It's my signature," Blair informs them. "I was going to call it Summer of Blair."

"Until I shortened that to S.O.B," Chuck says, appearing out of nowhere.

"So what did you end up calling it?" Nate asks, watching as Peyton takes a sip and nods appreciatively.

"Queen B," Blair says proudly, reaching for a drink off the tray of the waiter that walks past.

Nate laughs and shakes his head, and Chuck looks thoroughly amused. "Of course," Nate says. "What's in it?"

"Pineapple juice, lime, blue curaçao," Peyton lists off, pausing to think of the final ingredient. "Champagne?"

"It's lime infused vodka, and tonic water for the bubbles," Blair corrects. She is impressed that Peyton could decode the mixology, though.

"It's pretty good," Peyton says. She extends the glass to Nate, and he rolls his eyes but lets her tip it back so he can try.

"I'll stick with scotch," Nate says. Chuck nods and clinks the rim of his glass against his friend's.

Nate rests his hand on the small of Peyton's back as they sip their drinks, and they observe the party from where they stand. She may be biased, since she's friends with Blair, but Peyton thinks this is the nicest party she's been to all summer. Blair excuses herself to go 'make rounds' and check on something or another, and then it's just Peyton, Nate and Chuck, and Chuck insists he doesn't want to have to talk business with anyone just yet (it's inevitable these days that it'll happen).

"Peyton, you do look stunning," Chuck says after Blair has left.

"Oh. Thank you," she says quietly, glancing down at herself.

Nate has noticed, as he knows Chuck has, that she's drawing stares. She always does, no matter what she's wearing or what she's doing or who she's with. She's gorgeous, and she doesn't realize it. Nate wants to tell her every chance he gets.

After Chuck has walked away a few minutes later, Nate does that very thing. He says she's beautiful and sexy, and that he can't wait to get her away from this party and out of this dress (the dress he's moving his hand over on her back). He reminds her that she promised, and she blushes and tells him to stop. He kisses her cheek, and she catches that scent of his, and she's wondering if they can leave.

But then there's someone else entirely stealing the attention of everyone at the party.

Serena van der Woodsen, looking more blonde and tan than ever in her white sun dress.

And Carter Baizen's hand holding onto hers like it's meant to do so.

Peyton doesn't know who Carter is, but she recognizes Serena. She also notices the glance shared between Chuck and Nate. She can't identify the look in Nate's eyes when he's looking at that other blonde girl.

She just knows that he's never looked at her like that.


	9. If You Don't Wanna Love Me

Peyton feels more uncomfortable in this setting than she ever has before. She watches Blair and Serena hug, and she misses her own best friend. She watches Chuck walk over and say something that has that gorgeous blonde girl scowling and shoving him a bit before pulling him into a hug he's resistant to. Whoever the guy is that is with Serena looks almost as uncomfortable as Peyton is, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's not that he doesn't belong in this circle, it's that Blair and Chuck so obviously don't like him; she can tell that from where she stands.

She watches Nate, standing next to her and unable to take his eyes off Serena.

"Nate," she says, trying to snap him from his daydream, or whatever the hell trance he's in.

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "Can you excuse me for a sec?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding weakly and flashing a fake little smile. "Of course."

He walks away, and she's left wondering how they could go from talking about how they're going to spend the rest of their night together, to him walking away from her without another word, and without calling her out over her fake grin. She thought he knew her better than that. She thought she knew him better than that. She thought he was over Serena.

As she watches that blonde shriek some form of his name and throw her arms around him, Peyton wonders how she ever could have really thought it.

A couple that lives close to where Peyton's staying come over to chat with her, and she smiles politely and answers their questions and engages in conversation, but the entire time, she's trying to ignore the four people standing by the bar. Nate, Serena, Blair and Chuck. The guy that came with Serena gave up trying to fit in and is sipping a scotch and talking to a few of the men that he obviously knows.

And as Peyton watches those four people, she realizes that they are a distinct foursome. After hearing so many stories about Nate's childhood, it really shouldn't surprise her, but watching it with her own eyes is something completely different. They are just _four_. It doesn't matter who else might try to fit in, they never will be five or six or any other number. Chuck and Blair, Nate and Serena. Peyton was crazy to think anything different.

She's finished her second drink and she watches Nate have a very serious conversation with Serena, and she can't watch anymore. If he wants to be with that other girl, or _whatever_, she won't get in his way.

She makes purposeful strides towards the group, where Blair is still standing, and she all but ignores Nate as she talks to the hostess.

"Thanks, Blair. I'm going to take off," she announces. She notices Chuck's face change, as though he wants to call Nate a moron and tell him to pay attention to his girlfriend. She loves Chuck for that.

"Are you sure? It's not even 10:00," Blair says, pleading with her eyes for Peyton to stay. It only takes her another moment to realize what's going on. "Come on. Stay for another drink."

"No. Really, it's fine. I'm just gonna go," she says again. "But thanks again."

She reaches out and she and Blair do that ridiculous air kiss thing that Peyton now resents ever having to do, and all she wants to do is go home. _Home_, home. Tree Hill, where she won't have to see Nate for the rest of the summer or ever again. She doesn't even listen to that voice in her head that's telling her that she's overreacting or jumping to conclusions.

But as she and Chuck embrace, she realizes two things. Nate hasn't said a word since she came over, and he also hasn't introduced her to this other girl. That's indication enough to Peyton that she's not as important to him as she should be.

"Hey," he finally says. "You okay?"

"Fine." It's not convincing in the least. He doesn't mention that either. She thinks she might see him wave before she turns to leave, but she deserves more than that, and he should know it.

"Ugh! I need a drink," Serena declares as Peyton walks away.

"Chuck and I will go!" Blair insists hurriedly. She grabs her boyfriend's elbow harshly and pulls him away from Serena and Nate.

When they're far enough away, Chuck says, "we're scheming, aren't we?"

"Did you see that? He let her just walk away! He didn't even say goodbye!"

"Well, no one said he was good with women," Chuck reminds Blair. She rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip. "What do you have in mind?"

"You get drinks and keep Serena preoccupied. I'll just talk to Nate," Blair says, rubbing her temple like this is all far too exhausting and stressful for this evening.

"That's it? _Talking_?" Chuck asks doubtfully. "Are you losing your edge, Waldorf?"

"No. I just think this'll be most effective," she insists. She leans forward and kisses him quickly, and leaves him at the bar so she can pull Nate away from Serena. The only comfort she's getting from this right now is that she isn't the girl who's hurting. That's not much comfort.

She likes Peyton a lot, and she can tell that Nate is crazy about her. He's even crazier if he lets her get away, which, if Blair can read this situation (and she's pretty sure she can), he is.

"Nate, can you help me inside for a minute?" Blair says, using that sweet voice she uses every time she's being just a little patronizing.

"Sure," he says.

"I should find Carter. I've kind of ignored him," Serena says just as Chuck approaches. Blair and Nate are walking away as they hear Chuck ask something like why she's with that guy anyway. It's a question they've been trying to get the answer to since she arrived.

Nate is so blissfully clueless that he actually asks Blair what's going on once they're inside and she has the door to one of the lounges closed.

"Really? You don't know?"

"What?" he asks.

"Your girlfriend just left, and you didn't even say goodbye. And you _know_ you shouldn't have let her leave," Blair insists, leaving no room for argument.

"Peyton kind of does what she wants," he reminds her.

"Whatever. She wasn't just leaving because she _wanted_ to," Blair says. "Nate, you just let her walk away. She wanted you to ask her to stay."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm a girl!"

"I'm just worried about Serena," he explains. "She just came back from God knows where, and she's with Carter? What the hell is that about?"

"Okay, you should be thinking about Peyton, not Serena."

"I'm wo..."

"Worried. Right," Blair says, rolling her eyes. "Nate, I love Serena. She is my _best_ friend. But...I've been here this summer. I've seen how happy you are with Peyton. You deserve that," she tells him.

"So we're just supposed to let her be with Carter? Blair, the guy's..."

"Nate," she says softly, smiling at him sweetly. "Let her? Serena doesn't need anyone's permission, and she's certainly not going to ask for it. She wants to be with Carter. And you want to be with Peyton, right?"

"Yes, but..." he says, shaking his head.

"There's no but," she insists. "There's a perfectly amazing girl on her way home right now, probably crying because you've paid more attention to Serena tonight than you have to her. And trust me...I've been that girl." He closes his eyes, but he's smiling at her because he knows there are no hard feelings. "I always wished the boy would come sweep me off my feet."

"Did I ever apologize for that?" he asks, and she lets out a little laugh and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Blair."

"I know," she whispers. "It's all in the past. Like Serena and...whatever you two had." He's looking at his hands and she can't see his expression. But she knows it's the truth, maybe for the first time ever. "Right?"

"Right," he says. "You're right." He tips his head back and lets out a humourless laugh. "I'm an idiot."

"Yes. But go," she tells him, standing and tugging on his arm. "There's a girl you're maybe falling for who needs you to make her swoon."

"Am I capable of that?" He figures there's no better person to ask than this girl. They both notice that he didn't just argue the fact that he's definitely falling for Peyton. She knows it and he knows it. The only person who might not know it is Peyton.

He thinks he might just change that.

"You're Nate Archibald," she says with a laugh. "Of _course_ you are."

"Thanks, Blair," he says, resting his hand on her shoulder. He smiles, thinking about all the times he's heard Peyton say his name in such a similar way.

"_Go_ get the girl," she insists harshly. She smiles when she hears him laugh as he leaves.

He doesn't say goodbye to anyone before leaving. He's sure Blair will explain it all anyway. He's sure Chuck is very well aware of what's going on. The only person who won't understand right away is Serena, and for the first time in a very long time, Nate doesn't care if she cares that he's got a girlfriend. He hopes he still has a girlfriend. He's very aware that he's acted like a complete jerk, and given her past relationship experiences, him paying attention to another girl instead of her was probably the worst thing he could have done.

As he's on his way to her place, he's trying to think of the perfect words to explain himself or get her back or convince her. He hates that he's enough of an idiot that he has to do any of this. It's entirely his fault. He thinks that if he can get that exact point across, he might do okay.

He tries to walk into the house without knocking, but the door is locked. That's sign number one that she's really pissed off. He can't blame her. He rings the bell and waits for her to answer, and he can see her figure walking towards the door through the frosted glass.

She pulls the door open, but doesn't invite him inside. She's still wearing that dress, but her hair is pulled up into a ponytail and she's barefoot. She looks fucking incredible, and he has no idea how he wasn't looking at her all night.

"Hey."

"Hi," she says. Her voice is colder than he's ever heard it, and he notices even in that one syllable.

"Can I come in?" he asks. She doesn't move. He'll take that as a no. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Um..._no_. It's not okay."

"I shouldn't have..."

"Just...just stop. It's fine," she says, sounding completely exhausted.

"Peyton..."

"Nate, I really...I don't want to do this," she says, and he's not sure she's talking abut the conversation, or their relationship as a whole. Either way, he doesn't want to accept that.

"Well we are," he says firmly. She puts her hand on her hip and narrows her eyes, but he thinks he sees her almost smile. He knows she likes it when guys take the initiative. "Can you at least let me explain?"

She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically, but she pulls the door open a little wider and he steps inside. It's all he can do not to just grab her and kiss her until she believes him. He realizes he hasn't explained, but he thinks that maybe kissing her senseless would get his point across.

"I think I have it all figured out, actually." She crosses her arms over her chest and rests her weight on one hip. "This summer...you and me...this is just nothing to you. And probably if Serena had been here the whole time, you wouldn't have even given me a second look. So...why don't we just make this easy and end it now?"

He's almost speechless. She's so far from right that he almost wants to yell at her and tell her she's being crazy. He knows, however, from past experience, that if he does so, this fight will not end the way he wants it to. And he hates himself for ever letting her think anything even close to what she's said is true.

"Peyton...no. That's not it at all."

"Oh, really," she says, deadpan. She cocks her brow and she looks so hot that he wants to mention it, but he knows better.

"I'm not interested in Serena," he says firmly. There's no room for argument in that statement, and he thinks that's maybe happening for the first time. "Just...Carter isn't...he's a bad guy, Peyton, and Serena's still my friend."

"Nate, you can't..."

"Would Lucas let you date someone he thought was bad for you?"

She doesn't know whether to smile or scream. He played that card right, that's for sure. She's afraid she might lose this argument. But she realizes quickly that even if she loses, she gets him.

And isn't that what she's wanted all along?

"I'm wondering what he'd think of you right now," she says quietly, just to be a bit of a bitch. She thinks he might deserve it. He smiles at the comment, and there's no way she's staying mad at him. "Nate, I don't want to be just some...temporary...fling."

"Me neither," he insists, taking a step towards her. He reaches out and places his hand on her waist, and when she doesn't move away, he rests his other hand on her as well.

"So what...?"

"I'm falling in love with you." He says it with such certainty that it almost knocks the wind out of her. She doesn't say anything. She just stares at him and blinks a couple times. "Do I need to get a guitar and start singing badly?" he asks, knowing she'll remember that conversation from weeks ago when they were watching that movie on his sofa.

"What song would you sing?" she asks. His heart almost stops. He knows if he doesn't give her a good answer, he's going to mess all this up.

"Does it matter?" he inquires, smirking at her, hoping his lack of a choice is as good as naming the perfect song.

She smiles at him. Good answer, Nate.

"Are you just saying...what you said because you think it's what I want to hear, or..."

"Peyton," he says, shaking his head slightly as he pulls her a little closer. "I wouldn't...I'm not just saying it. I'm definitely falling in love with you."

"Really?" she asks timidly, looking up at him.

"Yes," he says, laughing a little. "How many times to I have to say it."

"As many as possible," she mumbles. She finally wraps her arms around his torso, and it's all he can do not to sigh his relief. "Are you really over her? Honestly."

"Honestly, absolutely," he insists. "Peyton, you were...unexpected. This amazing, beautiful, hilarious, perfect surprise."

"And what's she?" she asks. She just has to know.

"She's part of my past. And she's also my friend."

"Okay," she whispers.

He leans forward and kisses her, and she pulls him close as she kisses him back. He's certainly reassured her that she's the one he wants. The way he's kissing her, and the way his hands are moving further and further down her back are proving it even more.

"Can I please get you out of this dress now?" he asks.

She smiles and laughs a little bit and kisses him hard. They aren't even in her bedroom before the burgundy material is on the floor.

----

"Nate! Quit it!" she cries, shoving him aside with her hip. She's trying to make them breakfast, and he knows she's not much of a cook. She needs to concentrate, and he keeps kissing her. He does it again, and she turns around so she's facing him. "Do you want breakfast or not?"

"I do. I want you, too," he says, smiling as he pulls her close to him.

"You have me. It's the eggs that need work."

"Who needs to eat anyway?" he asks, shrugging one shoulder as she turns back to the stove. "I say it's overrated."

"You also have like, zero per cent body fat, so clearly, you need a meal." She waves her spatula at him, and he shakes his head.

"The way to get a guy to eat whatever it is that you're making is to tell him that he'll need the energy," he tells her.

"How about I say that we're not going to have sex again until you convince me that you love my food?" she suggests.

"Yeah, not the same thing." They both laugh, and she lets out a little mewl when he kisses her neck. "You're so cute when you act like you don't love it," he says quietly.

"You should not be teasing me right now. You should still be groveling and thankful that I took your sorry ass back," she says. She's not really serious, and they both laugh.

"This is how I convince you though. This is the best weapon I have in my arsenal," he says.

She's wearing just his shirt, and while he's joking about using his sexuality to make her crazy, she's doing that very thing without even trying. His button down only hits her mid-thigh, and she's got only three buttons done up. So not fair. He's not going to complain about it, since he's most certainly enjoying the view.

"What is your problem?" she asks laughingly. "Quit staring."

"I don't have a problem, other than we're down here instead of in your bed."

"Subtle."

"Well, we're technically still making up, right? You said it yourself," he says, smiling when she puts her hand on her hip and looks at him disbelievingly. "Your words."

"That's one interpretation," she says.

He pulls her flush against him and kisses her, and she barely notices when he reaches over and turns off the stove. He mumbles that food can wait but he can't, and she's not complaining one bit. They somehow make it back to her bedroom. He practically carries her up the stairs, and just as he's lay her down on the bed, his cell rings on the bedside table. She looks over to check the name on the screen, and Nate takes the opportunity to kiss her neck and unbutton her shirt.

She sees that it's Serena calling. When he reaches over to ignore the call, Peyton smiles at him and he kisses her gently.

"Nate," she says breathlessly.

"Hmm?" he asks as he kisses along her collar bone. She places her hands on his face and forces him to look at her.

"I'm falling in love with you, too."

He sighs, probably in relief, right before he kisses her again.

She's seriously wondering if her words are an understatement.

If maybe she already loves him.


	10. Patience

It's a week before Peyton's supposed to leave, and they've successfully avoided the topic of her departure, pretty much all summer long. They haven't really talked about it. At all. They haven't made any unfounded assurances that they'd make it work and it'd be great, and they'd survive the distance. She isn't sure they will, as much as she'd really like to believe that. She doesn't know if that's what he even wants, though she thinks it's safe to assume it, given that he admitted he was falling for her. That was two weeks ago. Surely, his feelings haven't lessened in that time.

Nate watches her from his bed. She's getting ready for their day - they'd decided to go to the beach - and she keeps telling him to get up.

What can he say? He likes the view from where he is.

"I haven't done anything I said I was going to do this summer," she says as she ties the string of her bikini at the back.

"Like what?" he asks, though his eyes are fixed on her chest, which he won't apologize for. "Meet an Archibald and have a lot of hot summer se..."

"Shut up," she interrupts, throwing her tee shirt at him as he laughs. "I kind of meant like, deciding what I'm going to do when I get back home. Where I'm going to go to school. _If_ I'm going to go to school."

"You should," he says. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail, and as he's watching her, he can't even imagine her not being around him. "But...maybe you shouldn't go back."

"What?"

"Stay. In New York. Columbia's good, I hear," he says, smiling as she turns around to look at him again. "Good looking freshmen."

"Nate..."

"And hey! You already have the sweatshirt." She sits next to him on the bed, and he rests his hand behind her grazing the waistband of her shorts. "I'd say that's as good a reason as any."

"Nate, we knew what we were getting into," she says softly. "I can't just...move to New York."

"Pretty sure you can." His hand travels up her back to toy with the knot of the bikini top she has on, but he doesn't tug the string like he knows he could.

"You're not sexy enough to convince me this way," she says. It's a complete lie.

"You're sexy enough to make me want to try," he says softly into her ear. He places his hand on her stomach and pushes her back onto the bed. Her feet are at his pillow, but he doesn't care at all.

"Nate," she says, trying to get him to focus on something other than making her forget about their day. "Nate, stop."

Her serious words and tone make him pull away slightly, but his hand stays on her bare side, and he's still basically laying on top of her. He knows they should talk about this, but he really doesn't want to. Deep in his heart, he knows that no matter what he says to her, she's going to end up back in North Carolina, and he'll be in New York, and they'll change. Whatever this relationship is will change. He doesn't want it to. He wants a real shot with her, and he doesn't want her to say that she won't let him have one.

"I can't just move to New York," she repeats.

"Why not?" he asks boyishly. She kisses him quickly, just because she loves the way he looks when he's acting like this.

"Because...because my life is in Tree Hill."

"Not anymore," he challenges. She looks taken aback by his words. "All your friends are leaving, right? Brooke and Lucas, Nathan and Haley are all going to college together."

"My dad's there," she reminds him.

"And he's away all the time," he says seriously. "He can come to New York _one day_ a month to visit you." The way he says it is an accusation, like he's not impressed with the way Larry treats his daughter. The look on her face tells him he's gone a step too far. "Peyton..."

"You don't know him," she says. There's a lump in her throat, and she doesn't know if it's because he's right, or because she really wishes he wasn't. "Don't judge him. He's been through...so much."

"So have you!" Nate says. He moves away from her completely, sitting up and resting his feet on the floor. "I'm sorry, but...if he's not even going to come home after you're attacked _twice_, i mean..."

"Don't say that," she insists. She gets up and turns her back to him as she paces his bedroom floor. "You can't say that."

He sighs and closes his eyes. He's not doing a very good job of explaining himself. "Peyton, don't you see that I just...I want you to be happy."

"I will be!" she says. Even she doesn't know if she should believe it.

"You're happy with _me_," he says quietly. He stands and stops her pacing, taking both her hands in his. "And I'm happy with you."

"Nate..."

"Why can't that be enough?" he asks.

"You're...you're asking a lot of me right now," she whispers. There are tears in her eyes, and his hands come up to rest on her cheeks.

"Not really," he tells her. "I just lo..."

"Don't," she pleads, shaking her head rapidly. "Nate, don't say that." He takes an audible breath and wipes the tear that falls from her eye. "This...us...this wasn't supposed to turn into...this."

She knows she's not making any sense. She knows he understands. He pulls her against him and cradles her head with his hand. He kisses her hair, and he feels another tear drip onto his bare chest. It damn near breaks his heart. He doesn't know what's happening right now. He doesn't know what she's willing to give him. He's willing to give her whatever she wants.

"What should we do?" she asks, pulling away from him and hastily wiping her eyes.

"Well, you know what I think we should do." She lets out a teary laugh and rolls her eyes, and he loves that he can make her do that at such a serious moment. "I don't want to end this. We can't."

"No," she agrees quickly. "No. We aren't." She smiles up at him and he kisses her. That sounds like a good promise. "We'll visit each other." He sighs again and he's about to say something, but she cuts him off. "It won't be so bad. We'll...we'll talk all the time. I'll text you during school days and make you stop looking at the college girls on campus, and..."

"Peyton," he says. He loves her sense of humour. He kind of hates that she's joking right now though. "Then what? How long are we gonna do this for? Four years? What about after that?"

She smiles. She loves that he thinks they'll be together in four years.

"We'll figure it out."

"I don't know what that means," he admits.

"It...It just means that it won't be easy," she explains. "It'll be really hard, and you might hate me, and you might want to break up. But we won't break up, because that thing that I just wouldn't let you say?" She smiles and it's contagious. She weaves their fingers together and steps even closer to him. "I feel that way too."

He kisses her hard, so thankful that she's said - well, almost said; alluded to, really - what he's said. What he feels. Whatever. They love each other, even if she doesn't want to come right out and say those three words.

They never do make it to the beach that day.

----

She stands in the quiet foyer of the massive house she's lived in all summer, and there are tears in her eyes as Nate holds her hands in his. She doesn't want to do this. She doesn't want to leave, and she doesn't want to cry when she has to leave, and it all just sucks. She hates it. She can tell Nate is trying not to make things more difficult, so he hasn't said much. He's been telling her to just stay - to move to the city with him - and she's insisted that she can't. She knows it's just her reluctance to leave him that has her wanting to say that she'll live with him in the city while he goes to school.

"I hate this," she says softly as they walk outside. Her driver has just loaded the last of her bags into the car that'll take her to the airport.

"Me too."

"I don't want to," she says. She's almost pouting. She seriously thought of stomping her foot, but caught herself.

"Peyton, you know..." he starts, but the look she gives him shuts him up.

"Don't say anything about me moving, because if you say those words, I'll...I'll seriously reconsider." He grins and she shakes her head. "Don't."

"I'm not," he says softly. "I know you can't." She slips her arms around his waist and he slips his around hers. "I don't know what to say."

"Just...anything but goodbye, okay?" she requests quietly.

"How about - this was the best summer, and I'm so glad you came here, and...um...call me when you land," he says. She smiles and nods, and he kisses her with a whole bunch of emotions that she doesn't want to take the time to pick apart, and they both know he's dying to say the words she's told him not to say. "A couple weeks," he says once they've parted. "Come see me."

"I'll try, okay? I...I have to figure some stuff out," she says, and he nods because he knows it's true, but he hates that he has to wait for her at all. He looks solemn and she hates it and loves it all at the same time. She loves that he hates that she's leaving. She hates that her leaving is making him sad. "Nate...God, I hate that I'm about to say something this cheesy, but...You're the only thing I know for sure."

"Cheesy," he says, and they both smile. She kisses him, messing up his hair one last time because she knows he hates it. "Just go. The longer we stand here and do this, the..."

"Longer we're going to stand here and do this?" she suggests, and he nods again. "I'm going. I'll call you. Be good."

He laughs as she tries to pull away from him, and he reaches for her wrist. "Be good? Those are your parting words?"

"Nate," she whines.

He wants to tell her he loves her, but he knows she isn't ready to hear it. Or she just can't right now. So he kisses her, and she walks away, and neither of them says another word. She gets into that car and he's left standing in the driveway, watching until the car pulls out of sight. He hates everything all of a sudden. He hates that she isn't around. He hates that she's not from New York, but it's kind of been there all along, since he knew this day would come.

But he kind of does love that the last thing he heard her say was his name.

----

It's another week before everyone really starts thinking of leaving Tree Hill. School starts soon, and so everyone's packing up the last of their things, and Peyton spends a little time with all of them.

She watches Lucas pile endless stacks of books into boxes. She watches Nathan go through his closet, laughing at the kind of things he used to wear when they dated. He tosses her a navy blue Nike sweatshirt - one she always used to steal - and tells her to keep it. She holds Jamie while Haley carefully folds clothes and drops them into her suitcase.

And she and Brooke chat like school girls about their summers as Brooke makes Lucas pack her things. They don't even stay at the apartment while he does it.

When Peyton checks her phone for the fourth time in 25 minutes, Brooke rolls her eyes and leans across the table at Karen's Café and asks, "what are you so anxious about?"

"Nothing!" Peyton insists quickly. "Nothing. I just...It's stupid."

"You think Lucas thinks it's smart that he's agreed to pack for me?" Brooke asks, knowing that Peyton's talking about something to do with Nate.

Peyton laughs and shakes her head. "Lucas didn't _agree_ to anything. You told him he was doing it and pulled me out the door before he could argue."

"Either way, he's still doing it," Brooke says. "Now what are you waiting on."

"It's...so lame. Nate's at his first like, frosh thing today, and he said he'd send me a picture, and..."

"That's cute," Brooke says, swooning a little.

"Exactly!" Peyton cries. "I'm not this cute! I don't...I don't like, glue my phone to my hand, and I don't..._miss_ people this much. It's not...right."

Brooke smiles and Karen comes over with their iced tea just in time to grin over the tail end of that conversation. "Maybe it's right with him," Brooke says. "Maybe it's not that you aren't that girl, it's that you never found the guy who you'd be that girl for."

"Maybe," Peyton says softly.

"You love him," Brooke says, just realizing it.

Peyton hasn't admitted it to anyone. She doesn't want them to make her relationship into a huge deal, though she knows it is one. And she thought she might want to admit those feelings to Nate before she admits them to anyone else. She should have known Brooke would see through it all.

And the only thing she regrets at all is not telling Nate how she felt when they were standing face to face in the driveway that day.

"Kind of," Peyton says, wincing like it's something she's guilty for not just telling Brooke immediately when she felt it.

"Peyton!" Brooke squeals, bouncing in her seat a little bit. Peyton just laughs, then rolls her eyes.

"Don't, okay? I can't...I can't think about all this, and...I didn't tell him. I just left. I...he was going to say it, and I told him not to, and..."

"But he was for sure going to, and you for sure love him back."

"Yeah," Peyton admits softly. "But it's been a week, and I'm like, dying here. A stupid week. And I'm...I miss him."

"I know," Brooke says. "So...What are you doing here?"

Peyton's eyes fly up to meet Brooke's, and she looks genuinely surprised. "What?"

"Why did you come back here? I mean...I love that you'll be so close, but...Look, I could have gone to L.A. I could have gone to New York. I could have taken my line national," Brooke says. Peyton shakes her head, only because she knows what Brooke is getting at. "But I'm going to a little school in the middle of nowhere and taking business and marketing because it means I get to be with Lucas."

"But that's you, Brooke."

"So?" Brooke asks, shrugging her shoulder. "So New York is your Gilmore University." Peyton laughs, and that makes Brooke laugh, because it's kind of silly to say it that way. "You can't just stay in Tree Hill and work at Tric on Friday nights. Peyton, you're...you're so much better than that."

"But New York is huge. And it's...scary. It's got so much to offer, and I...don't," Peyton says.

"Okay first of all, that's so not true," Brooke says seriously. "Second of all...New York has Nate. Isn't that...I mean, maybe that's all you really need."

Peyton shakes her head. She's not going to just go to New York and let Nate's money and his family and his connections take her through life. She wants to do something for her. The more she thinks about it, the more she thinks that being with Nate _would_ be for her. More than anything else.

"It's not about his money," Peyton insists sternly.

"I was talking about the love, babe. Not the money," Brooke says, sipping her iced tea like that's the last thing she's going to say, and probably the most important.

----

He's laying on his sofa in his new apartment with the television playing ESPN Classic in the background just because he doesn't care and he's feeling too lazy to bother changing the channel. His phone is in his hands, and he desperately wants to call her, and he's almost done it about 20 times, but he knows she's spending the night with her friends before they all leave the next morning, and he doesn't want to bug her.

When Chuck strolls in with a bottle of Glenfiddich 30 year old single malt tucked under his arm, he announces a deal that'll make his company millions. Nate tries to be enthusiastic, but he just can't find it in him to be.

"Come on, Nathaniel. Don't waste good scotch," Chuck says as he pours.

Nate takes the glass like he's supposed to, clinks it against his friend's like he's supposed to, and savours that first sip like he's supposed to. Okay, and also because that scotch is really damn good, and the alcohol is actually going down pretty good as he thinks of missing her.

His phone rings, but it's not Peyton's name on the screen, so he ignores it. When Nate looks at Chuck, he's got an amused smirk on his face and Nate rolls his eyes.

"What?" Nate sighs.

Chuck parks himself in the leather club chair across from the sofa, and he rests his right ankle on his left knee. He balances his glass on his leg and shakes his head before speaking.

"Would you just admit that you miss her?" he requests.

"I'm not denying it," Nate says. He takes another drink and hangs his head. "I just hate that..."

"That she's not here," Chuck supplies. "That _is_ kind of the definition of missing someone."

Nate tips his head back against the sofa and looks up at the ceiling. "I never said it."

"Said what?" Chuck asks distractedly, picking a bit of lint off his jacket.

"That I love her. I never said it."

"You didn't?" Chuck sounds like he doesn't believe it, and if he's being honest, Nate really can't either. "I think you've loved her since the Fourth of July."

Nate laughs and shakes his head. "Maybe," he admits as he chuckles. "This sucks."

"Well, yes," Chuck admits. "Why isn't she just..._here_? What's in North Carolina anyway?"

"I don't know...a couple awesome college ball teams and her friends?" Nate says, shrugging his shoulder.

"That's hardly a reason to stay there," Chuck says. Nate doesn't think he's ever heard his friend say anything so true. "Did you tell her to come here?"

"Yeah. She doesn't want to."

"I find that hard to believe," Chuck says honestly. "And not only because her town is the epicenter of the world's drama." They both laugh and take sips of their drinks. "I think perhaps she's just got to figure it out on her own."

"Meaning?" Nate asks.

"Well, you're sitting here missing her," Chuck points out needlessly. "I'm sure she's sitting in her little middle-of-nowhere town missing you. I give her a week before she's in New York. I'd put money on it."

Nate doesn't say anything more on the topic. He spends the rest of his night - and three more glasses of scotch - hoping that Chuck is right. Because he thinks that as much as Peyton didn't want to hear him say the words, he wanted to say them more.

----

The day after everyone leaves, Peyton is sitting in the bedroom of the apartment she shared with Brooke, the one that all of them but Lucas have lived in at some point or another, and all she can think is that it all feels empty somehow. Tree Hill feels cold and boring and it's making her feel too tired to even try to think of something to do. She hasn't looked for a job or looked into any classes that she might be able to get into at the local college.

She realizes that it's not that she's been busy - she hasn't, not really - or that she's not sure what she wants to do.

She is sure what she wants to do, and she knows that Tree Hill has nothing to do with it anymore.

She's reaching for her suitcase before she finishes the thought, and when she calls her dad, he just laughs into the phone and tells her that he's surprised that she's lasted even this long.

----

He meets up with Dan for coffee after his last class on his first day at Columbia. He hasn't seen Dan since high school graduation, and they ran into each other in the park when they were both in a rush, and they'd set up this meeting. They talk for an hour or so, and Dan discreetly fills Nate in on what Vanessa's been up to, and Nate explains that he's happy that she's happy, but he's met someone, and he smiles as he talks about Peyton.

But as he's walking home, his heart aches because he honestly doesn't know when he'll see her again, and when he talked to her the night before, it didn't sound like she'd be able to visit him any time soon, and he can't get away from New York, not with the course load he has.

He steps off the elevator at his apartment building, and he's fumbling with his keys. He doesn't see her sitting there on the floor outside his door until he's only five feet away. She's got her iPod on, an issue of Esquire closed on her lap, and her eyes are closed. She's tapping her toes, and he can hear a Guns 'N Roses song blaring from her headphones, and he makes a note to make fun of her for that later. She obviously hasn't heard him, and so he sits down next to her, close enough that their bodies are touching, and her eyes open. She smiles, and there are tears in her eyes, and he has no idea how she could be listening to GNR and crying, but then he realizes that maybe the tears are for him - them - and not the music.

"Hi," she says quietly.

"What are you...Hi," he says. "But...how?"

"I don't want to be there," she admits. She rests her head on his shoulder, as though it's been mere hours since they saw one another, and he links their hands together. "I can't."

"Where are you staying?" he asks, because it's stupid and silly and he wants to hear her laugh, and she does. "What are you gonna do?"

She lifts her head and smiles lazily, and she shrugs her shoulders and says, "be with you," like that's the only thing on her agenda that means anything.

He kisses her because he can't believe he's gone this long without doing it, and she's sitting there, and she smells like that perfume she wears and her shampoo and travel, and there's a huge suitcase sitting across the hall from them. She's invited herself into his life and his apartment, and it's just about the most perfect assumption he's ever heard of. He was a total dork and had a second key to the apartment made, 'just in case', and it sits in a drawer, and later that night, he'll give it to her.

But right now, he just kisses her.

"So, you live in the hall, or can I actually come inside?" she asks. Her tone is teasing, and he's heard it like that a million times before. He loves that this isn't some big, dramatic reunion. It's almost like it was inevitable, and they've both just been waiting for it.

He wants nothing more than to just tell her what he's been beating himself up for not saying sooner.

He pushes the door open and drags her bag inside, and she looks out the windows like it's the best view she's ever seen. She's standing 20 feet away from him, and her back is to him, but he can't wait another second.

"I love you," he says.

She closes her eyes and smiles, and she turns around to look at him. He's so adorable and sexy and perfect in his black polo shirt and jeans, and all she wants to do is throw her arms around him, so that's what she does. She rushes across the room and throws her arms around his neck, and he's laughing when she presses her lips to his.

"I love you," she echoes. It feels like a weight off her shoulders, like she can finally breathe again; be happy again.

She's standing in a New York City apartment with a New York City boy and she has no idea what she's going to do here other than just love him. It seems like enough.

"By the way," he says as he holds her tightly and looks into her eyes. "Patience?"

"It's a brilliant song!" she says seriously, her eyes wide at the implication that he doesn't know that already.

He looks at her, smiling patronizingly, and brushes the hair from her face. "Sure it is."

"Nate, it's...Oh my God, you're...We need to listen to this right now," she says.

She moves away from him and he's laughing as she reaches for her iPod again. She pulls him by the hand towards the sofa, and they sit there holding hands, sharing headphones, and listening to Axl sing about love and missing someone and having the patience to make it.

And even if those lyrics didn't perfectly describe the time he spent without her, he'd still agree that they're amazing, just because she's so happy, and she's so with him, and he's not letting her go anywhere.

She's in his heart now.

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
